It Just Snuck Up Somehow
by WithoutHesitation
Summary: Sequel to 'Early' Breathers change with time, unlike the dead. Pity Beej really hasn't paid much attention. But when he realizes, quite suddenly, that Lydia's not a kid anymore, what exactly will he do about it? Maybe more importantly, what will Lydia do?
1. Now What?

Beetlejuice doesn't belong to me. If you want to split hairs, I don't know exactly who he belongs to… Tim Burton, The Geffen Film Company, whoever wrote the myriad of scripts… (Probably not that last.) It's all legal techno-babble to me, and I don't know much about that stuff. I do know enough not to claim he's mine, or try to make money off him, or I'm screwed. Which sucks. I mean, who wouldn't want to make a living doing what they love? But I guess I should just be grateful I can do it at all… Where would I be, if I couldn't? …Probably doing it anyway, but if anyone asks, I'll deny it. You'll vouch for me, right?

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Starting a new title, on a previously existing AU, always leaves me trying to do as well as I did before. I mean, people seemed to like,_ '__Lydia was Early?_' I wish I could just say screw that this time, and just have fun… But I probably will worry myself to pieces with every new chapter. In fact, let's see… Yup, doing it already. It just seems off to me, like, too sudden. Twelve, then she's almost sixteen…

Not that writing Beetlejuice is ever _really_ not fun… It's pretty much impossible… Isn't it?

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Lydia didn't honestly know what she was doing anymore… Okay, technically she was getting ready for a date, but whenever that answer popped into her head, which was about every thirty seconds, her heart promptly dropped into her guts, where it was then thoroughly squeezed half to death by them.

She had three outfits lain out on her bed, and for the last half hour, had been hovering over them uncertainly, lifting one or the other, only to change her mind, and put it right back. Between this, she paced. She was going to need another shower before she was done. Unconsciously, her left hand twisted the ring she still wore around her neck, all these years later. She wished briefly he were there, to yell at, or something. But no, she hadn't seen him in almost three days…

And what the hell was up with that, anyway? She cast a frustrated glance at her mirror, tugged her hair, which immediately left her wondering whether she was really going to leave _that _the way it was… But she quickly pushed the thought away, and focused on being angry with the poltergeist. He was probably with some new ghoul… He went through them like cans of beetles, and never had as much time for her, when the relationship was new.

Of course, eventually that would wear off, he'd start getting bored with the chick, and hang around her more often, until said ghoul just sort of… stopped being an issue.

Despite this, it was starting to piss her off more and more lately. She knew she was more important to him than getting laid by whatever latest conquest he'd scored, he'd proven it well enough before, but she just had less patience for his disappearing these days. And she really, really wanted to talk to him just then. She'd made a really big decision, without consulting her best friend, since he was no where around…

And now she wasn't sure she'd made the right one. Her desperate gaze landed on Loki, who had been watching her fall apart since she'd gotten home from school, and noted to the cat in frustration, "You may look like him, but you're sure as hell no Beetle- Urg!" She clamped her own hand over her mouth, bit her fingers firmly, and looked over the array of clothes again.

Black. Hell, she couldn't go wrong with black. She grabbed the other two outfits off her bed, relieved to have made a decision, no matter how randomly, and shoved them back into her wardrobe, slamming the door. Then, well aware how little time she had left to get ready, she ripped her shirt off, reaching for the outfit she'd chosen…

"Hey babes, let me tell you, I've had a hell of a-" It just sort of came out of nowhere, and she turned before she could stop herself, staring at the poltergeist sitting in his usual spot, at about the same instant he saw her, and his words died to nothing. They stayed that way, for about an instant, before he yelled, "What the hell!" And Lydia spun, furious, grabbing for something to cover up with.

What the hell indeed? What had she been thinking, getting dressed in here? Knowing he could pop in at any time, and- "Argh!" She made a sound of fury, her bare back facing him, certain even the skin there was colored bright red. "Don't you ever knock?" Of course, since when had she ever asked him to knock…?

"Where the hell did those come from?" He demanded, sounding nothing so much as simply shocked to all hell.

"What?" Lydia glowered at him over her shoulder, still holding the black blouse against the front of her, and most decidedly not turning around. She couldn't decide if she wanted to risk pulling it away, long enough to put it on… This guy could be anywhere in a second, if he put his head to it. "What are you talking about?"

"Those… Those!" He roared, giving her a brief moment to wince, and hope to god no one heard him. He made a gesture at his chest, before throwing his arms up, yanking his hair and rubbing his eyes at the same time. "Since when did you get a pair of knockers!"

Lydia, if it was at all possible, proceeded to turn an even darker shade of crimson. No way a guy with his head constantly in the gutter, hadn't noticed when she shot from pretty much nothing, to a size B? "Shit…" She hissed, summoning her courage, and yanking the blouse away, only to immediately wrap it around herself properly. "I'm almost sixteen, Beej… When did you think I was going to get them?"

"Sixteen?" This if anything, seemed to astonish him more, and as she quickly fumbled the buttons into place, and turned to face him again, determined not to act all flustered and awkward over this. His lips were pursed into a frown, as if secretly he doubted her, while his eyes remained locked roughly at chest level. "You sure?"

"If you ever gave a damn about birthdays or holidays, you'd know." She muttered, squaring off against him, now angrier than before, this time for reasons she wasn't entirely sure of. "Shit Beej, did you really think I was still twelve?"

Beetlejuice seemed to have no answer to that, still just staring, with such intensity that he could have caught her blouse on fire. She wasn't even entirely certain he'd heard her, which he seemed to confirm a moment later, licking his lips and muttering, "Lemme see 'em again, babes… Make sure I'm not hallucinating, or something."

"You can see them just fine where they are." Lydia growled, making him open his mouth to protest it, only to belatedly realize that she sounded upset.

His eyes flicked up to hers, taking in the color flooding her face, the angry set to her lips, and the flashing of her eyes. "What the hell's wrong with you?" He grunted, as if in his opinion, she were being completely unreasonable. "You got some nice ones, I just wanted another look… How the hell did I not notice them before?"

Lydia took a deep breath, which had the unplanned effect of returning his eyes right back to her swelling chest, and let it out with a slow sigh. "My god, Beej… It's been three and a half years! Are you really that big of an idiot?"

"'Parently." He muttered, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket, placing it between his lips, but not yet lighting up. Or taking his eyes from her. "You know, I'm realizing Lyds… You're about the same age your moms was, when I met her." She couldn't really tell if there was something more significant to this or not, but his eyes had a thoughtful sort of look, as he leaned back against her mirror.

Abruptly he changed the subject, pulling the cigarette back out of his mouth, and tucking it back in his pocket. He leaned forward a little, bracing his elbows on his knees, and gave her a long, searching look. "You going somewhere?" He asked, suddenly taking in the fact that she had her hair up, which she rarely did, and was wearing make-up she didn't usually bother with.

Lydia blinked, the last traces of her anger leaving her, as she remembered what had been bothering her before. "Yeah," She muttered under her breath, not sounding completely happy about it, "I'm getting ready for a date." She drew her hand over her mouth, and considered briefly on how to finish getting dressed.

"With that prince brat?" There was just a little more of a frown to his tone than before, as if he suddenly took this as a personal slight. "Don't sound much like you wanna… Why don't you just stay home with me?" He waggled his eyebrows at her with a grin. "We'll think of something to do…"

She smiled, apparently now she'd have to deal with his raunchy comments towards her, as well as just in aside when he brought up his personal life. That ought to be fun… But then his first words hit her, and her smile vanished. "No, not with him." She said quietly, pointedly not looking at the poltergeist now.

There was a small moment of silence, and then, with a snort of amusement, he noted, "Cheating on the prince of the neitherworld? I gotta tell you babes, that's crazy even for you… But if you're gonna do it with anyone…"

Lydia cut him off before he could go any further with that suggestion. "We broke up." She told him bluntly, finally deciding to pull her jeans on under her skirt, then remove said uniform. She didn't look at him as she dressed, but was careful to avoid giving him any more 'peeks.'

"Why the hell'd he break up with you now?" He demanded, once again sounding annoyed… But like he was annoyed for her this time, rather than with her. "You two been an item about as long as you and me… And look at you! You're fucking hot now!"

"Which you only noticed about two minutes ago." Lydia noted dryly, suitably dressed now, to face him again. "It can't be that impressive." She paused then, her more mischievous nature getting the better of her, as her lips curled in a small smile. "I really got some nice ones?" She prompted, belatedly flattered.

He grinned slowly, folding his fingers together, and gave her his most lecherous look. "Like I said, lemme see 'em again, babes… I'll give you a detailed description of just how fucking good they look."

Lydia rolled her eyes, but couldn't quite contain her smile, as she pushed him off her dresser, claiming her mirror for herself. "Anyway, he didn't break up with me," She noted, as he never quite hit the floor, but proceeded to hover, circling her slowly, eyes now taking in every inch of what he'd apparently missed, "I kind of-"

And here of course she stopped, because this was what was still eating her up inside. "I told him we should see other people." She said finally. God, she swore he'd positively crumbled in front of her. He hadn't even seen it coming. She felt like such an ass…

Beetlejuice was quiet, just sort of staring at her for an extended moment, before noting matter-of-factly, "You gotta be fucking kidding me, Lyds. I mean," His voice rose a little, "Do you even remember who we're talking about here? Richest, most powerful guy in the neitherworld… Ain't gonna find another one of those! Why the hell would you-?"

"Because he never fucking kissed me!" Lydia snapped, spinning back on the poltergeist with fire in her eyes. Her outburst stunned the poltergeist into silence. "How the hell long am I supposed to put up with slow dances and hand-holding and sweet talk? I'm almost sixteen years old, Beej, and I've got to be the only one at my school that's never been kissed!"

Beetlejuice's jaw was hanging as he considered her, and then, as if just to double check, his eyes dropped to her chest again, then lifted back to her face. He started to say something, paused, reconsidered, and tried again. "You ever tried kissing him, babes? 'Cause I gotta tell you, if the royal heir ain't into chicks, that whole family's gonna go through hell, trying to get a kid out of him."

Lydia frowned, feeling irked, and more stubborn than usual. "I'm not supposed to kiss him," She informed him, sounding childish, and well aware of it, "He's supposed to kiss me, and I'm supposed to let him! That's how it works!"

This sounded of course, not only childish, but also rather irrational, considering the girl's usual lack of hesitation in… well, anything she felt like. Beetlejuice's eyebrows twitched, as he considered her with something of a dubious set to his mouth. "This from the girl who asks the prince of the neitherworld to go steady, after one date?" He mused, trying not to see too much humor in this, for the sake of not getting hit with something.

If he expected this to catch her off guard though, it only worked for a moment, and then she countered, just as stubbornly as before, "I didn't ask him! He asked me!"

Now his lips couldn't help but curve. "That's not what I heard…" He taunted her, with a snicker.

Starting to answer, Lydia then paused, with no explanation whatsoever, and smiled. "Heard… Or read?" She teased him right back, instantly making him wary. When she pulled a turnaround like that, she was up to something… And while he didn't mind her little schemes, hell, usually he was a part of them, he didn't like being caught off guard by them himself. Which again, happened more often than he liked.

"Little of both…" He muttered, deciding the safest way to pursue any further conversation with her, was to change the subject. "So who exactly is it you're going out with, then?" He couldn't help but be just a little unsettled that so much had happened without him… Even with him right there. Like her growing up.

Her amused mood seemed to pass, and an irritated look flickered across her face. "You know, I can't even remember his damn name. He asked me out, after I told Bertha and Prudence we'd broken up, and I said yes. He's not even my type." A pause, then, almost angrily, "But I bet you money _he'll_ kiss me."

There was no way in hell Beetlejuice was taking that bet. In fact, he'd bet money that the guy wasn't going to be satisfied with just a kiss… He was about to tell her too, when slowly, before his eyes, she slumped a little, her gaze clouding. "Shit, what am I thinking… I don't even know his name, and he's gonna be my first kiss?" She sat on her bed a little heavily, and broodingly, looked off at nothing at all. "The whole point was for it to mean something."

Okay, now this was just a little bit too much teen drama for him… Beetlejuice pointedly looked at the ceiling, scratched his wild hair, and again, wondered how the hell he'd not noticed this sooner. But she hadn't act like this, just the last time he'd seen her! He couldn't have been gone for more than a few days! He should say something… Hell if he knew what.

"So forget the little prick." He grumbled at last, not eager with the idea of sharing her with someone else, now that the prince was out of the picture. He'd never liked the knobby kneed royal taking so much of her time anyway… And for reason he really didn't want to think of, he liked it even less now. "You and me'll go raise hell somewhere… Have a blast or two." He did his best to grin at her…

Only to pause at the calculating set to her eyes, as she considered him with a long, deliberate stare. Then she stood, smoothly, and out of the blue, demanded, "Kiss me, Beej."

Which again, had the effect of making his jaw drop, just a little this time, a nonsensical sound emerging, before he managed in an uncertain voice, "Come again, babes?"

Lydia shook her head, lips set into a twisted little smirk, clearly recognizing the irony in her request. "Come on, Beej. In twenty years, you're the only guy I'm gonna remember from when I was this age. You're pretty much one of the only friends I got, and the only one of _them _I can ask to kiss me. And I told you, I want my first kiss to mean something… Whenever. Now, if possible."

Her eyes flashed, and she crossed her arms, as she dared him to accept her demands. "So get the hell over here, and kiss me, all right?"

Beetlejuice cleared his throat, considered the girl briefly as if she were still just twelve, then dropped his eyes, pointedly reminding himself she wasn't. A bit of a wisp of a girl, if anything prettier than her mom had been at her age, just subtly curvy… And he had to admit, now that he'd noticed them, his fingers kind of itched to grab those curves.

"Not the way you're supposed to do it, babes," He noted at last, though his own face split in a decidedly wicked grin, "But hell, I been propositioned worse! C'mere…" He crossed the distance to her, twisted one arm about her waist, slipped his hand around the back of her throat with the other, and tipped her whole body to within a foot of the floor, giving a little cackle. "Just remember Lyds, once you get a taste…"

There was a brief, albeit actually very brief moment, where he hesitated, only to see her soft pink lips curled in amusement, her eyes still daring him to do it… And he shrugged, pulled in closer, and gave her the best kiss he knew how to give. And he knew that the best kiss _he_ knew how to give would be damn good.

His lips against hers, pressing softly at first, then more firmly, fifteen seconds, thirty… A nibble on her lower lip, while his cool tongue flicked the top one, begging entrance to the soft, warm recesses of her mouth, which she surrendered with a little gasp of surprise.

He was really just trying to take her breath away, he wasn't expecting his own undead heart to lurch, or his stomach to twist with an odd flutter. Didn't expect her hands in his hair, or the little moan of pleasure that followed his expert kissing, if only because it was his Lyds, who never let on any kind of vulnerability. Sure as hell didn't expect how good her warm, supple body felt against his…

And sure as hell didn't try to break the kiss, until Lydia pulled away breathlessly, eyes wide and dark, looking at him with something of an unguarded surprise. "Wow." Was all she said, softly, meeting the green gaze of the poltergeist who still held her about a foot and a half from the floor. "So that's a kiss, huh?"

"Nah babes," He denied smugly, hoping she wouldn't notice just how _physically_ he'd responded to the feel of her that close, "That's a kiss from the ghost with the most! Don't expect some teen-boy breather to be able to do _that_ for you…"

"Hmm…" Her eyes lidded in a sultry way, the dark make-up around her eyes only enhancing their own smoky brown color, she didn't ask to be let up yet, and in fact, looked like she might be about to ask for another.

Before he could take advantage of the situation though, she sighed suddenly, put one hand on his chest, and pushed him away, pulling them both up to a standing position once more. "Okay, that was damn good," She agreed, looking a little more collected, "Now get your hand off my ass, will you?"

Beetlejuice blinked in surprise, not really having noticed how far his hand had wandered. But now that he did, he wasn't about to waste it, giving said ass a little squeeze, with a leer. "That really asking my opinion babes? 'Cause hell… I kinda like it where it is."

Lydia shoved him back, giving him a little scowl. He knew her well enough though, to know she didn't mean it. "You're just a little too comfortable with this," She noted dryly, "Considering an hour ago, you thought I was still a kid. Or doesn't that bother you as much as you've always let on?" He started to protest, a little irritated by how quickly she got over his sexiness, only to be cut off by her, adding, "And I'll just pretend that was something you had in your pocket, by the way. 'Kay?"

This left him dumbfounded, and finally he adjusted his cufflinks, looking anywhere but at her, a frown tracing his lips. "'Preciate that, babes." He agreed sourly, suddenly all his hastily formed plans of spending the rest of the night together pretty much evaporating before his eyes, as she grabbed her coat, turned her back on him, and clearly still planned to go on her aforementioned 'date.' Just like nothing had happened. "Don't have too much fun, you hear?"

She turned, gave him one of those sly grins he'd always found cute on her, somewhat less so at the moment, and teased slowly, "Don't do anything you wouldn't do, you mean?"

"Hell with that…" Beetlejuice muttered, starting towards her again, only for her to laugh. "What? What's so fucking funny?" He demanded, tipping his chin up, and giving her his most intimidating scowl. "You think some boy's worth…"

"If I even let him kiss me," She interrupted, still looking amused, "I'll be surprised at myself. So I don't want to find out you've been following me around like some new claim of yours… Because you know I'll see you. And one kiss does not make me yours." She added, way too humorously for his taste.

Why not? He scratched his chin slowly, wondering if he was losing his touch, or this was just Lyds being ever-stubborn-Lyds. A kiss from him usually got a broad halfway to bed… And he was already in her fucking room.

"Yeah, whatever." He muttered, determined not to go full sulk in front of her. "Go on, get laid for all I care. Just don't come running to me when he's a lousy-" He fumbled over this last word, despite himself, still adjusting in little ways to his newest insight into the girl. "Doesn't matter if I go with you or not, I'm just gonna find out anyway." He added, menacingly.

A little giggle escaped Lydia, not the effect he'd been trying for, which he thought was just about the last insult he could take… Before she said something he really was not expecting. "Oh really? Beej, do you honestly think I put anything in my diary I don't want you to read?"

This, when little else could, not only caught him off guard, but completely drew his mind away from the previous subject. "You knew?" He muttered, wondering why exactly she found this so funny, instead of blowing her stack at him. "For how long?"

Lydia rolled her eyes, grabbing her keys from beside the door, and tucking her ring under her blouse. "Please… I only started keeping a diary after I met you. Why do you think I did it?"

If what she was saying was true, this had to be the longest running scam she'd pulled on him… He was, against his will, a little impressed. "So why not just tell me what's going on in that pretty little head?" He growled, trying to pretend annoyance, when in fact it was all he could do not to grin right along with her. "Instead of making me sneak to find out?"

"Because it was more fun." She informed him matter-of-factly, taking his moment of distraction to drop a kiss on his cheek. Before he could curse himself for not noticing in time to take advantage of the situation, she added, "After all, I knew you couldn't call me on anything you weren't supposed to be reading in the first place…"

And of course, that was the true evil genius of it, after all. "So all the times you cracked about me…?" He mused, considering all the little jibes and teases she'd left between the red pages all these years. Damn, the girl was a downright brat, wasn't she? He couldn't help but feel a little relieved, knowing now she didn't mean any of it.

"That was my guilty little pleasure," She agreed, batting her eyes at him with faux innocence, "Knowing you'd read it, and couldn't do a damn thing about it. And I knew you weren't gonna get too mad," She added, almost as an aside, "Don't forget, I am your doorman… It's not like you can find just anyone else to let you in and out."

Beetlejuice groaned, no, he never had gotten mad over it, but not for that. Just because she'd never said anything about him a tenth as bad as everyone else had always said. He'd figured it was just part of knowing him. "You're a real sneak, you know that?" He praised her grudgingly, giving her a twisted smirk. "I'm definitely having a good effect on you. Damn, three years…"

"Please… What makes you think I wasn't already like this?" She started to say something else, then paused at a loud honk drifting up from outside, and made a face. Beetlejuice almost laughed, real classy guy she was dating… But then she caught his eye again, noting smugly, "Think about that!" And left him alone in her room.

Of course the minute she was gone, her little joke was the last thing he was thinking about… He moved to the window, his features frustrated, and more than a little pissed off. He watched her emerge from the front door a minute later, hop into the side of the brown sedan, and then, without a how-do-you-do, pull from sight down the long drive.

He might not be able to follow her, but damned if he wasn't going to drive himself crazy until she got back, thinking of just what that little punk was up to… And how he couldn't do shit about it.

…And how the _hell _had he missed this?

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	2. Questions of Judgement

Beetlejuice doesn't belong to me. If you want to split hairs, I don't know exactly who he belongs to… Tim Burton, The Geffen Film Company, whoever wrote the myriad of scripts… (Probably not that last.) It's all legal techno-babble to me, and I don't know much about that stuff. I do know enough not to claim he's mine, or try to make money off him, or I'm screwed. Which sucks. I mean, who wouldn't want to make a living doing what they love? But I guess I should just be grateful I can do it at all… Where would I be, if I couldn't? …Probably doing it anyway, but if anyone asks, I'll deny it. You'll vouch for me, right?

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Nnnn... This is longer than I've written for a while. Nnn... But keep in mind, I'm totally evil. :) So I'll probably leave off just as you're wondering what the hell happens next... Nnnn... That being said, I'm going to gnaw my fingers to nubs until I know what you think of it, because despite how many people have been so kind to me, and they really have, I'm still totally insecure whenever I post something new, so you might want to review, before said gnawing makes any more typing impossible. Yes, yes I will resort of extortion... Or is that blackmail? Yes, I will accept criticism, though I will procceed to defend my viewpoint to the point of insanity, even though I'll probably accept good advice while pretending to hate it. Anyway, it might work well. Heck, I don't know... Nnn... You know, some people DO sleep...

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Well, that had gone brilliantly. Now, not only was she eating herself apart over that last look Vincent had given her, and the horribly understanding way he'd been about the breakup, not even putting up a fuss… No, now she was practically tearing her hair out about what had just happened back there with Beetlejuice.

_Kiss me, Beej_… She mocked herself, her lips twisted into a little scowl. Forget that it had been a damn good kiss, and one she was currently having trouble pushing to the side of her mind… What had she been thinking? She knew damn well the kind of guy he was, and that he'd never let something like that go, now that she'd 'opened the door,' so to speak. Not to mention that he was pretty much the friend she hung around with the most, certainly the one she had the most fun with, even if that did mean getting in the most trouble. She couldn't exactly just brush him to the side now, if he started coming on strong…

God, she hoped he didn't do that. And what the hell was with him just now suddenly noticing she wasn't twelve? And everything after that? Sure, he'd gotten a eyeful of bra, but what, now that suddenly changed all the rules? No qualms, no hesitation, just sort of going from the kid he hung around with, to the chick whose pants he wanted in? Sure, she couldn't see something like friendship or past getting in Beetlejuice's way for long, when he saw something he wanted… But what about her?

_What about me? Easy, I give him a full view of my under-stuff, and then I give him permission to stick his tongue down my throat. No mixed signals there. Clearly, I want things to stay exactly the same._

She bit her lips, eyes still fixed out at the trees they were passing, and gave a sort of inner sigh. She couldn't have just stayed twelve, no. She had to get her head all fouled up by teenage shit, and turn from a skinny twig of a kid, into… Well, someone that the guy next to her would ask out! She didn't take him as real interested in her 'personality…'

"Awful quiet, Deetz." He noted out of the blue, using her last name like it was some sort of term of affection. She pointedly didn't look at him, biting her knuckle, her mind going back to the look on Beej's face, right before he kissed her. That moment when he realized that this was _her_ he was about to come onto, just before he pushed the thought away with about as much effort as shooing a fly. "Am I making you nervous?"

Nervous? She turned from the window to cast him the most fleeting glance possible, her dark eyes practically scathing as they skimmed over him in the darkness. He of course, couldn't see that, and just grinned like an idiot, all full of himself for, 'making her nervous.' Like it made him just _such _a man. It was only about this time that she realized that, again, they were surrounded by trees passing on either side. They should _not_ be surrounded by trees passing on either side.

"Where the hell are we going?" She snapped, angry from the surge of panic suddenly welling up in her gut. They should be in town by now… Hell, they should _be_ at the movie theater!

The guy, damn him, she still couldn't remember his name, looked surprised, then try to pass off one of those confident grins that the girls around town seemed to love. "Turns out, that movie's got a little delay tonight…" He lied through his teeth, "Something about a broken projector. I thought we could kill some time down at The Lake."

Lydia's stomach sank, as she stared at him with as much venom as she could summon into her gaze at such short notice. "Forget it," She denied flatly, "Take me home, we'll go another night." Like hell they would… Once she got away from this guy, she was never giving him the time of day again! He was so not the kind of trouble she was into…

Again he looked surprised, as if in all his times in using this lie, no one had ever come up with that response before. "Hey," He pressed, sounding genuinely soothing, "I just want to get to know you a little better, Deetz! We don't gotta do nothing… Just talk a little, enjoy the view…"

"And you can brag to all your friends about some shit that didn't go down?" Lydia glowered at him, which made him look a little uneasy, and shift, avoiding her gaze.

"Hey, I just thought you wanted to have a little fun…" He protested, "Hell, I'm a guy, you gotta know what I think's fun!"

"Do you know what I think's fun?" She countered, her voice low and angry. He didn't seem to know how to respond to this, just looking uncomfortable. "Well? I mean, you expect me to know what you think's fun, so how about the other way around? Because see, I think going to a movie's fun… Not being hijacked out to some make-out spot for all the horny guys in Winter River."

He looked a little more tense now, but smiled through it, pulling the car to a stop. "Well, there's no point making a big deal about it now," He noted quietly, his voice just a little bitter, "Since we're already here and all. Just look out at the water, enjoy the stars… We'll leave in a few minutes."

Lydia seriously considered what kind of walk it would be like back to town, through who knew how many miles of trees, along deserted roads, and closed her eyes, silently muttering one of the curses she'd learned from Beetlejuice. She sat stiff as anything, staring straight forward, her lips pressed into a thin line, and positively radiated, '_don't you dare touch me, you fucking pig_.'

There was a long moment, where the silence was uncomfortable enough that Lydia thought he just might get the hint, and take her home, but then he reached out, with a little shrug, and turned on the radio. Some cliché make-out crap drifted over the speakers, and Lydia rolled her eyes. This guy was not going to give up, was he?

"I'm gonna get some air." She muttered, shoving the door open, and stepped away from the mind numbing swill he was playing, as well as to get away from the wall of cologne that still managed to likewise numb her nose.

She stepped out into the cool night, just on its way into mid-spring, and took a deep breath of clean air… Only for her eyes to fall on the occupants of about another dozen cars, most with steamed windows, some, as the phrase went, 'rocking.' Lydia felt a surreal moment of, 'hell, they realize people know what they're doing in there, right?'

This was followed quickly by a need to get away from the sight of her date's intentions for the evening, and before she could think twice about it, she was walking to the shore of the black water, and pointedly not looking behind again.

When she just looked out at it though, the idiot was right… It was beautiful. More stars than she could count above, a heavy half moon, the water that stretched out of sight in the darkness… The sound of it, gently washing against the thin strip of dirt. She shook her head, determined not to enjoy a minute of it, but slowly found herself, entirely against her will, losing some of the anger that had driven her out into the rather sharp night wind.

"Pretty, isn't it?" It came pretty much out of nowhere, even if it shouldn't have, making her jump a little. His voice was all silk, husky and murmuring, as he came up behind her. He didn't move to touch her, which was a rather impressive effort on his part… But most likely he was just still trying to get her to lower her guard.

"Yeah, pretty." She echoed sourly, any pleasantness that the night might have held, however momentarily, now gone. She should have brought pepper spray or a whistle… God, something! Now she was already wondering if she'd actually have to let him get somewhere with her, even if it was only a kiss, if she wanted a ride home. She suddenly didn't feel like kissing Beej had been such a bad idea anymore, if only so this guy wouldn't be her first…

_Beej_. A completely unbidden smile came to her lips at the thought of calling him, and letting him deal with the hormone driven creep. Hell, he'd said he'd always come to her rescue… This counted, right? Maybe he'd drown the son-of-a-bitch. Then _they_ could enjoy the view together, and if Beetlejuice went out of line, she'd kick him in the shins. Come to think of it, maybe she should try that with no-name… But for all she knew, that was exactly what it would take for him to leave her there. And she did _not_ want to walk home alone.

At this point, she was weighing her, '_never should have gotten out of the car,_' argument, with her, '_yeah, because being in close quarters with a guy who just brought me to The Lake against my will would have been such a better idea_,' argument, when said guy suddenly sighed, and took a few paces away from her, looking skyward.

Lydia regarded him warily, wondering at the sudden change of tactics. "You know," He said suddenly, sort of regretfully, "If you didn't like me Deetz, why the hell did you agree to go out with me? I mean," His eyes traveled downward slowly, and a little, embarrassed smile crossed his lips, "Obviously I like you, right? You're pretty, you're smart… You do your own thing. I think that's pretty cool."

Waiting for the other shoe to fall, Lydia regarded him with a wary eye, wondering how much of this he'd said to a hundred other girls before her. The whole bit about her doing her own thing was pretty good… She preened over it a bit more than she liked to admit, especially knowing it was probably a line. Still, she figured she might as well answer him honestly. She wouldn't be blamed if things went bad again. "I just got out of a long-term relationship," She said simply, turning back to the water, "A guy I've dated since I was twelve. I just wanted to think about something else for a while. Get my mind off it."

A pause, and then a soft laugh. "So I'm the rebound guy, I get it." He sounded hurt, and that made her flinch, albeit unintentionally. She was just so fresh from breaking one guy's heart… The last thing she wanted was to go through something like that again. "Fine. Whatever. I mean, I understand. It's not the first time it's happened. But just because you just went through a bad break-up… Don't let it mean you're not even gonna give me a chance, okay?"

That, sounded suspiciously like logic. _Damn, he would have to be acting reasonable now_… It was so much easier to despise him when he was being a jerk. The truth was, she'd never intended for it to be a real date. Despite what she'd said to Vincent about, 'dating other people,' she wasn't really up to it yet. The dust still had to settle from everything that had happened with him… More than three years together, that couldn't just be, brushed aside.

So the truth was, she'd just been using this guy as a diversion. More or less toying with him. _God, now I feel like an ass all over again…_ She closed her eyes, rubbed the bridge of her nose, which suddenly felt tight, and wondered what the hell she was supposed to say now. "Yeah, all right." She heard herself agreeing, though even she didn't really believe she meant it. This had just been a bad idea from start to finish… But that wasn't entirely his doing. Not that she'd exactly gone out of her way to lead him on…

Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe… Damn, was this what all teenaged boys acted like? She had wanted a change from Vincent, but this was like asking for a glass of water, and being dumped in the ocean! And she didn't want a drop of that, of course…

_It's salty,_ she smirked, amused by her own stupid comparison.

"A smile, that's better." He sounded relieved, clearly oblivious. "Come on, why don't we walk down by the water for a while? You can tell me what a presumptuous ass I've been, thinking you'd just want to make-out on the first date, and all that." He added with a grin, holding his hands up defensively, "I swear, that's all I had in mind. I figured you for, you know, not being the kind of girl…" And here he just sort of let it trail.

Was that a compliment? She bit her lip, wondering if all he'd had in mind was really a few kisses. Maybe she'd hung out with Beetlejuice for too long, figuring all guys… Oh shit, she'd thought about Beetlejuice again. Her face suddenly flushed, she ducked her head, and ran her fingers through the long bangs that were already working their way loose.

She forgot about the guy at her side, wondering instead what she'd say to the poltergeist when she saw him again. Nothing was going to change, she was determined of that. Beej was Beej, he was a horn-dog, a smooth talker, and a good friend… And she didn't mistake any of these. She just didn't want them to suddenly start overlapping.

"Hey," A tug at her hand, as the guy, damn, she still couldn't remember his name, slid his grasp into hers, and pointed skyward, "Check it out. See those three really bright stars up there? All close together? That's Orion's Belt. The Hunter." He sounded pretty smug about knowing this, surely not aware how well she already knew. "They're just about gone, this time of year."

"You can see them better in fall." She agreed, her lips twisting in a smile, as she instinctively looked to find the brightest star of the constellation. "That's one of the reasons it's my favorite time of year."

"Because of some stars?" He looked like this was funny or something, grinning as he gave her hand a little squeeze. "You _are _weird. Not that I don't like that," He added hastily, as she fixed him with a sideways glance. "I mean, doing your own thing… Cool. Right?" A sort of silence fell between them, and at this point, it was no longer as awkward. Lydia was a little concerned in fact, to find that she was actually enjoying herself. With a boy. At 'The Lake.'

"Hey," He said again, tugging her to a stop, and making her meet his gaze, "I really like you Deetz. I've always wanted to ask you out… But everyone said you had this boyfriend, and…" He gave a sheepish little smile. "Guess I figured, I didn't have a chance. This guy was supposed to be a real charmer, or something. Everyone just called him, 'The Prince.' Why would you want to go out with someone like me, when you had someone like him?"

"A prince," Lydia echoed softly, unable to prevent just a hint of regret seeping into her voice. "Yeah. He was. I mean," _Damn, that was stupid_, "He was a great guy. It's just, I'm not sure he was the _right _guy, you know?"

A small pause, and then seriously, "If you want to talk about it…"

"Nah." Lydia pushed her hair back, starting to turn back to the water. "Wouldn't change anything. Besides, there's no way in hell you want to hear me whine on about my ex… No guy's that nice."

He laughed, a moment later, his fingertips brushing the hair away from the back of her neck. "Guess you're right," He murmured, as a chill graced her spine, "I mean, if it were up to me, I'd much rather be kissing you."

The barest edge of Lydia's former unease reared its head, but the goth girl stubbornly pushed it away, giving a little shrug. "I dunno," She murmured, surprised at herself to realize she was actually teasing him, "I don't want to lead you on or anything…" Which with her current tone of voice, might be exactly what she could be accused of doing…

"Yeah, okay, I can respect that." He agreed, sounding serious, but in the way that meant he might be teasing. "But I mean, I kind of think you owe me at least one kiss, for making me think I had a chance with you in the first place." He moved beside her, fingers still tracing the creamy skin of her neck, a slow grin falling into place. It was, a little disturbing. "_Do_ I have a chance with you, Deetz?"

But again, she pushed that away. "Probably not." She smiled, turning to face the guy, who currently couldn't seem to take his eyes off her. "But if I do owe you a kiss… You _would _have to earn it." Secretly, she was wondering just how much of Beetlejuice's bragging was just that… He couldn't really be _that_ exceptional a kisser. This was a way to find out, and then the guy would probably agreed to take her home, and…

"Screw earning it," The guy muttered, suddenly grabbing her by the arm like he was done playing patient, pulling her hard against him, and meeting her gaze with his own, suddenly intense one, "I said you owe me." And with that, even as her mind shifted in uneasiness at his sudden shift in mood, he pressed his lips against hers, hard, his tongue already pressing in a persistent way against her mouth.

Lydia balked, trying to pull free, all her previous unease suddenly returning full force, as he did his best to cram his tongue in her mouth, despite her refusal. She was just starting to get angry enough to consider letting him, just so she could bite it, hard, when she was suddenly aware of the progress his free hand was trying to make at her blouse, tugging it free from her jeans.

_What the hell_? Suddenly she was dealing with 'spider-hands,' one grasping her with the intent of not letting her pull away, the other now, somehow, having managed to make its way inside her blouse before she could stop it, groping at her with dogged single-mindedness.

Abruptly, even as she was doing her best to fight him off, or even get a breath of air, his fingers suddenly closed into a fist against her with a sound of surprise, and she felt his hiss of anger against her lips, "What the hell?"

The next thing she knew, he was shoving her, hard enough to throw her to the ground, as his eyes, formerly so full of humor, now glinted fanatically. The change had come so quick… She was aware of a brief, tearing pain at her neck, as well as the sound of something snapping, and for one instant, thought her shirt had torn open. Quickly covering herself, or grasping herself so he couldn't, she found that wasn't the case, but…

He stood over her, a glint of gold hanging from his hand in the moonlight, his features contorted in what could only be called jealousy. "What the hell?" He repeated, almost a roar. "You're still wearing his fucking ring around your neck? God damn it, Deetz, I'm getting sick of you stringing me along!"

It was so out of the blue, his sudden shift in personality, that it should have stunned her, but at the moment Lydia didn't even care that it made no sense. "Give me that!" It surprised her, the note of panic that touched her voice at the ring being out of her grasp, but he just sneered, even as she jumped to her feet, and made a grab for it. "Give it to me, that's mine!" As he held it just out of reach, smirking, Lydia decided she'd suddenly had enough of this whole damn night, and psycho guys who shifted from one mood to another without notice, like it was some kind of game… And she hauled off and kicked him, _hard_.

Unfortunately she missed her target, which _wasn't _his shin, only managing to clip him pretty good in the knee as he moved to block her kick. But it did have the satisfying effect of making him howl in rage. "You asshole!" She yelled at him, advancing, ready to give him another if she saw an opening, "So what, the whole nice guy thing is just some stupid act to get me to trust you? What the hell kind of sick…?"

"Bitch!" He hit her, easily as hard as she'd kicked him, and she went flying back again at the blow against her shoulder, even as he pulled his arm back, and with a swing she could only watch in horror, flung her ring somewhere out into the depths of the freezing lake. "You want it! Go get it!" And even as she scrambled back to her feet, he was already limping away, leaving her there alone in the dark.

She had no intentions of following, forget if he was her only ride home. Her mind was spinning in confusion, frustration, and lingering panic… She was furious with herself. All her instincts had been screaming at her that she couldn't trust the bastard, and she'd ignored them, and let her guard down anyway, and it had cost her the ring she hadn't taken off in years. _Beetlejuice's_ ring.

Lydia made a sound, more like an utterance of rage than a sob, and kicked her shoes of, suddenly gripped with the insane idea of going into the chilling lake to find what had been taken from her. The cold was a shock as she stepped into the shallow water, but she was braced for that… What she hadn't been expecting was the thick black ooze that her foot then proceeded to sink into beneath the surface, dropping her further than she'd expected to go, and making her lose her balance… Which then left her on her hands and knees in the nasty stuff.

Pushing away any further cries of unhappiness, she struggled to her feet, and began wading deeper into the dark waters, determined to take back what was hers. She couldn't stand being helpless. She needed things back in her control. In the insanity of the night, in the violations she'd endured, the betrayal, the only way to make everything right again, in her mind, was to get that ring back…

Somehow, somehow, then everything would be okay again…

--------------------------------

Damn it, damn it, _damn it_! Beetlejuice had, over the course of the last forty minutes or so, completely lost his patience, ripped everything out of Lydia's dresser, wardrobe, and desk, and sent up a blizzard worthy of winter's best… Only to turn around, tucking everything back exactly where it had been before his tantrum. Not so that Lydia wouldn't be mad at him, but so that she wouldn't know how out of his mind he was going, while she was out playing around with some… breathing prick!

What the hell was with this anyway? He'd left a _kid _three days ago, she hadn't grown so much as an inch in his time away! Hell, she hadn't grown more than a handful of inches in the time he'd known her! She was still a sprite, a wisp… He could pick her up with one hand! Definitely not more than five feet… If that. Could he be blamed for thinking of her still as a kid? Was he supposed to notice _everything_?

Still, that was a damn stupid thing not to notice… And of course, completely unlike him. Could the girl have squirmed under his skin that much, that she wasn't just some breather to kill time with, or a way in and out, but…?

But what? She'd always called him her friend, he hadn't thought twice about that in years. But at what point had he started thinking of _her_ that way? He'd never seen anyone for anything but what he could get out of them… That hadn't changed since he'd been alive. An easy mark. A cheap floozy. A scapegoat. Even just a favor he could call in later.

And Lydia? She was a way in and out of the neitherworld. Someone amusing to pass time with. Sure, he went out of his way to save her ass a time or two, when she got in over her head. Liked spending time with her more than pretty much anyone he could name, and that being her as too young to have his usual sort of fun with. Didn't plan on giving her up any time soon…

But that was all for selfish purposes, right? Just a kid that was useful to him. Only now she was all grown-like, with… With perky little breasts…. And this round little ass… And these sexy brown eyes… _Lydia!_ Little no higher than his chest _Lydia_!

_Shit-shit-shit-shit-shit!_ He was gripped with the odd need to punch something, to scream, and then was hit, quite out of nowhere, with the thought, _Hell, I just kissed Lydia. Lyds!_ It shouldn't bother him. He'd kissed hundreds, maybe thousands of women. It shouldn't-

Well, yes, it should. And it _didn't_. All he could think was, _hell, if she was fun before…! _Breathers grew. It was what they did. He was an idiot for not noticing it sooner, but he'd watched lots of people go from kids to grown, in the neitherworld, and the real world. It wasn't just breathers, everyone did it. Hell, when he was alive, he'd done it! You didn't go back, you just moved forward… She was grown now. She was _damn _sexy. That was fine.

And it didn't bother him, and he was sure it should. Sure that some nagging sense of _something_ should be kicking in any minute now, saying, _that's Lyds, she's off limits_… Only it didn't. Instead he was already thinking of ways, when he wasn't tearing his hair out, that he could turn this little unexpected surprise to his benefit.

Back when he'd first met her, before their little deal, he'd still been fixated on there being just one way out… Finding a living woman, and marrying her. It had even occurred to him, that seeming forever ago, to hang out with _her_ until she was old enough… and then of course, he'd dropped that idea, because who wanted to hang out with some kid for three or four years?

Only he had. And any plans to get something out of it had vanished long before. But hell, that didn't mean they were _bad _plans… The girl already liked him, right? Most broads despised him on sight, and he could still usually get what he wanted from them. This girl, Lyds, she already actually liked him. Theoretically, it should be a piece of cake. The girl was as inexperienced as anything, thanks to the royal idiot… He could blow her socks off, throw her for a loop, and…

Okay. Now that tinge of, _you can't do that, that's Lyds_, was kicking in. A conscience? Hell, he wouldn't have believed he had one. He tried to take the line of thought again, and again, felt a sort of sick feeling rise in his stomach, at the thought of playing with the girl's head, as she'd never hesitated to play with his. But _that_ was all in good fun, and _this_… Well, this was a low blow.

So, Lyds as a good time. He could do that. Lyds as damn sexy. Fine. As long as he didn't do anything to screw her over. They always had fun together, so why not now? Why not like this? But using the girl as a way out, messing with her feelings? That he couldn't do. Strange, but good to know. He'd worked with limitations since the day he'd died, he could work his way around this one too.

He pushed the chair back from her dresser, sat down, and propped his feet up on one of the bats she took such pains to keep nice. He might have sneered a little as he did it, a petty little revenge for leaving him in the lurch like this. Okay. Babes grew up. No problem. Still just her, right? The girl was crazy about him. Thought he could do no fucking wrong. Funny, that he wanted her to keep feeling that way, but…

Beetlejuice drew out a cigarette, and with a moment's afterthought, flicked his fingers, and slid the window across the room open, easy as thought. Then he lit up, took a deep drag of smoke, and furrowed his brow. All right, he was a little calmer now, just had to think this through. Lyds, hell, she might be inexperienced, but she wasn't an idiot. No way she'd let the little punk get anywhere with her. And if she got into trouble? The guy couldn't take no for an answer? Then hell, she'd just call him.

Yeah, he was worried for nothing. At least that's what he told himself, a little more relaxed with the fragrant smoke filling his lungs, even though any actual effect it could have was only in his head. Still, it gave him something to do, helped him think.

Lydia… They'd be playing by a new set of rules now. Hell, she'd pretty much demanded that he kiss her, not even an hour ago. That was something twelve-year-old Lyds never would have done. Of course, that was something he never would have agreed too, if twelve-year-old Lyds _had_… But the point was, she had, and he had. And it was fucking _good_, too.

Maybe… "Friends with benefits?" He muttered under his breath, following this with a grimace, as he dismissed the idea almost as quickly. Shit, the best he'd get was probably a few more kisses. Lydia was a classy girl, the kind he didn't usually even try to set his sights on. She'd only go in for something like that for the long haul… And despite his many attempts to get his ring on various breather's fingers, he was not much of one for commitment.

Still, his lips twisted into something of a smirk, as he reflected that Lydia had been wearing said ring for the better part of, what had she said? Shit, had to be almost four years… Placated, if only temporarily, he put out the cigarette on his boot, and decided to spend his time alone in her room doing a little snooping. No way in hell he was going anywhere, until she got back from her 'date…'

But of course, there was really nothing in her room that he hadn't seen before. Including a bull-shit diary. Okay, maybe he hadn't browsed her underwear drawer before, but at this point, doing that would just make him feel crazier, not better. He already had that one image of her recent bareness fixed firmly in his mind, _thank-you-very-much_…

In the end, he settled for one of her recent photo albums. She was always trying to get him to look at the damn things, no matter how many times he'd pointed out that he was _with_ her when she'd taken the damn pictures… So hell, he'd look at them now.

_That'll show her_, he thought dryly, flipping open the cover, and brooding on the sight on the first page, of the collection of neitherworld street signs she'd captured, where they folded across pretty much forever, some sort of bending space thing, and crossed back over themselves. In the biggest, center photo, Grim-sum Ave, and Grim-sum Ave. He wondered why that was so fucking important, snorted, and turned the page.

After a few more pages, he was, despite himself, grudgingly impressed. The girl had a skill for bringing the truly macabre out of everyday things… And when it came to the truly macabre, she had a way of making it almost demonic. It made his lips twist a little, when she took something simple and tame, like her cat, and with a few shadows, and an odd angle, made it look like something positively haunting.

Of course, she couldn't take pictures of the residents of the neitherworld, not well, but as he discovered with a few more pages, that didn't stop her from making said pictures of the dead, truly spectacular. Arrays of colors, lights, blurs and patterns, shapes that shouldn't technically be seen with the naked eye, captured perfectly each time, regardless. Odd displays of movement, interactions with a dead world around them…

But of course what was truly spectacular, were the pictures of him, brilliant as anything, and he recognized _those_ every time. Even if he wasn't entirely sure how. Chin resting on his fist, he examined trees that clearly weren't from this world, glimpses of creatures corporeal enough to photograph, but again, clearly not from Winter River, and buildings… Damn, the girl had a thing for architecture pictures, didn't she? From _both _sides of the looking glass.

Just as quickly as he'd been drawn into it though, he grew bored again, and shoved the album back, drumming his fingers on the desk. Hell. How long was she going to be gone? He looked at the clock, and saw that it hadn't even been an hour. This was going to drive him crazy. He'd just check in on her, real quick, make sure she wasn't bound and gagged somewhere, or something…

"Hold on, I'm just going to check to see if her window's open again." A click of the doorknob, a voice clearly not Lyds, and Beetlejuice went completely invisible, scowling at the sight of Barbara Maitland sneaking into the girl's room when she wasn't there. He fanned his fingers across his lips in irritation, as she went to the window, made a clucking sound with her tongue, and slid it closed.

Then though, that done, she still didn't immediately retreat, looking around the room slowly. Clearly with the intention of using Lydia's absence to do exactly what he'd been doing a moment before, snooping. She paused at the sight of the photo album, and moved to open it, even as Beetlejuice slid silently out of the way, over to the now shut window, with just a faint chill left from its previous breeze.

"Barbara?" Adam peeked in, saw her about to open the album, and frowned. "You know, we really should respect Lydia's privacy." He noted, coming into the room anyway, and not objecting further when his wife swung the book open to a random page.

"Please Adam, they're just pictures…" Her voice caught in her throat though, with a jagged little sound, as she saw what lay inside. "My god…" Her voice, just a whisper. "Adam, look at these! They're incredible!"

Grudgingly, her husband came over to take a look too, while Beetlejuice practically sat on his hands to keep from juicing them both out of the room so fast that their afterlives would flash before their eyes. This was none of their damn business! Never mind that it wasn't his either… They just didn't belong there, looking through pictures of him and Lyds!

Adam's eyebrows flew up in surprise. "I didn't know she was using photo-shop so well! I knew she was taking classes at the school…" He reached out, about to flip a page as well, when he paused, and made a show of sniffing the air. "Do you smell that Barbara?"

Barbara, to his eyes always the less tolerable of the two, also took a deep 'breath' through her nose, and her lips twisted in a frown. "Smoke?"

"Cigarette smoke." Adam corrected grimly. "Damn it…" He did not look pleased.

"I thought she stopped experimenting with that years ago…" Babs sighed, looking disappointed. "God, tell me she hasn't actually been smoking since she was twelve! I only didn't mention it to her back then, because it seemed like a one time thing… Maybe we should-"

_Beetlejuice_. It shivered down the nape of his neck like a ghostly chill, but the ghost with the most didn't smile. She'd only be calling him if something was wrong. In addition to this, her voice… It didn't feel right. It felt weak, somehow. _Beetlejuice_. The hair on the nape of his neck stood on end. He didn't want to wait until she said it again, he wanted to go to her _now_… If only he fucking knew where she was!

_Beetlejuice._

_--------------------------------_


	3. Because Everything Changes

Beetlejuice doesn't belong to me. If you want to split hairs, I don't know exactly who he belongs to… Tim Burton, The Geffen Film Company, whoever wrote the myriad of scripts… (Probably not that last.) It's all legal techno-babble to me, and I don't know much about that stuff. I do know enough not to claim he's mine, or try to make money off him, or I'm screwed. Which sucks. I mean, who wouldn't want to make a living doing what they love? But I guess I should just be grateful I can do it at all… Where would I be, if I couldn't? …Probably doing it anyway, but if anyone asks, I'll deny it. You'll vouch for me, right?

----------------

I finally got this up... So put down those sticks! I did it, see? Right here! Heh...

----------------

Suddenly surrounded by darkness, it took even his eyes a moment to adjust from the sudden lack of light… He squinted at his surroundings, looking for the girl who'd just called him, only to see nothing. Unease rose in his gut like some sour meal gone wrong, and he started to move forward, wondering if he could have missed his mark somehow…

"Beej…" It was a whisper, a breath, and he spun to see her leaning against a tree, curled into a tight ball, soaking wet and covered in mud. She looked half frozen… And most shocking of all, something his mind couldn't immediately wrap around, she was _crying_. Every hair on his body rose on end, seeing that. Lyds didn't cry. In the entire time he'd known her, no matter what kind of trouble they'd gotten into together, sandworms or neitherworld gangsters, she'd _never_ cried.

"Babes?" He was on his knees beside her, putting his arms around her in an instinct to comfort he wouldn't have believed he possessed, only to find her so cold against him, colder by far than his own body. And his own body be damned, he couldn't warm her up. For the moment, he pushed that aside. "What the hell happened to you?" He rasped, his voice all gravel with worry.

"I lost my ring." It was a nonsensical murmur, and he regarded her a bit like she might be mad, but she said it again, this time close to a cry, grabbing onto him with both hands. "He threw it in the damn lake! I couldn't find it! I looked and looked… And it was so cold…"

Okay, true the girl wasn't making a lot of sense, but he thought he was getting the gist of it. The little punk, who would henceforth be known as 'dead meat,' when Beetlejuice got his hands on him, had taken the ring he'd given her, and thrown it… Well, into that lake just behind him.

He didn't know what they were doing there in the first place, but one thing he did know… Lyds always kept her ring under her shirt around anyone but him, in order to keep their secret. That meant that _his_ hands had been under her shirt as well… And from the look of Lyds at the moment, it wasn't because she'd invited him to feel her up, or anything. The little punk had been forcing himself on her, and…

"Why the hell didn't you call me?" He muttered, almost as annoyed with the girl, as he was seriously pissed off at her date. "What, suddenly you're too good to call me to save your ass?" He slid his arms under her, and lifted her against his body, cradling her slight form against his chest. "Come on, let's get you home…"

"My ring…" She whispered, making him twist his lips in grim humor. Yeah. That thing. Like it was just such important shit, that she should have gotten herself froze half to death over it.

He moved one hand free a little, twisted his fingers, and summoned the slender slip of gold out of the deep mud at the bottom of the lake. There was no way she would have found it there, if she'd searched until it killed her… He dropped it against her chest, told her in a hoarse voice to hold on, and pulled her between space, that same sort of place he'd drawn her through to take her to the neitherworld the first time.

She was oddly silent as they moved through the nothingness, again, as back then, not turning her face in, but looking out boldly into the darkness of shifting energies. It didn't sound like she was crying anymore, but he wasn't sure. She was though, oddly limp against him, as if she simply had no strength left to draw away.

Then they were standing in her room, and she gave one hard shiver against him, finally turning her face into his coat. "I forgot how beautiful that was." She whispered, her voice quiet as anything. "Can we do it again sometime?"

"Sure babes, whatever." He muttered, ready to drop her into bed, and bury her in blankets.

"Beej," Her soft voice stopped him, "I'm too cold. I don't think I can warm up by myself. I need a hot shower." He regarded her from the corner of his eye, wondering if this was the right time for an inappropriate comment.

Well hell, maybe it would make her smile. "Mind if I watch, babes?" He leered toothily, giving her a little squeeze… And faltering at just how cold she really was. He'd felt corpses that were warmer…

A small pause, as she didn't immediately throw off his suggestion, like he'd expected. Then, quietly, "I don't think I can stand up, Beej." Which immediately blew any perverted thoughts of his out the window. Damn, the girl was that bad off? Why the _hell_ hadn't she called him sooner?

"Yeah, sure." He agreed grimly, popping between space again, this time far more briefly, and emerging into the bathroom. He didn't want them getting seen together… The girl had been through enough for one night. He bent down, setting her gingerly into the bottom of the tub, clothes and all, and turned the shower on, sending a burst of steam into the still air.

Lydia yelped, drawing back with a strangled little sound. "Too hot!"

"Sorry, sorry!" He muttered, and spun it down until it was just above lukewarm, then sat on the edge of the tub slowly, watching as she gradually unfolded, like some kind of frozen flower, and tipped her face up to meet the spray. For a moment, she seemed to forget he was there… But her hand was, he saw, still grasped firmly into a fist, where she held his ring. Like she just wasn't letting that go again.

He wondered what the hell to think of that… It was just a ring. Why had she gotten so upset over the thing? It wasn't even supposed to be hers, it was supposed to be her mom's… Why did she give a damn either way about it? Much less enough to _cry_?

After a minute, she started tugging at her shirt with her fingertips, which he was pleased to notice, was more than a little translucent, what with water running down it and everything. He gave a low whistle of appreciation, only to make Lydia look at him sharply, and surprisingly, smile. "Damn it, Beej… Will you try not to be a pervert for two minutes?" She grumbled, throwing a half empty bottle of shampoo at him.

He was glad she wasn't scarred or anything… He caught the bottle, tipped it upside her head, and the room was filled with the smell of jasmine and wild clover. Not her usual scent at all. She made a sound of surprise, and covered her eyes, to keep the soap from getting into them, making yet another sound of shock as he burrowed his grimy fingers into her ebony locks, pulling the pins and ties from them, and proceeded to scrub her hair to a foam.

Giggling now, Lydia put up no further protests, tipping her head back, and letting him have his way with the inky strands. It was pretty impressive, since she hated anyone touching her hair… Not that _he'd_ ever tried. "Gotta get them wet clothes off, babes." He noted with a smirk, enjoying the sight of her covered in bubbles and wet garments, and not above a little teasing. "Need some help?"

"Go get me something dry to put on, Beej." She smirked right back, peeking at him from under her wet mass of hair. "I think I can get undressed myself."

"Hell, can I at least watch?" She gave him a push, working her way unsteadily to her feet, and batted her eyes at him in a sexy way, undoing the first button of her blouse, and then pointedly turning her back on him, and waiting for him to leave. He groaned, damn, she was going to tease the hell out of him at every turn now… "You really trust _me_ to pick out something for you to wear?" He demanded in a new tactic, arching one brow.

"I happen to like your taste in clothes." Lydia countered, baffling him. "Even if I've never seen you wear anything but the same two grungy outfits… Now go get me something warm. And no peeking!"

"Fuck!" He grumbled, leaving her there to ghost through the walls separating the bathroom from her bedroom. But he was hurrying, because well, if he just _happened_ to see something on his way back in… It didn't take long to go through her drawers, and find what he was looking for, largely because it had come to attention when he'd thrown the tantrum earlier.

Tucked neatly in her underwear drawer, which left his mind spinning as he saw all the lacy red and black things, (who was she saving _those _for anyway?) he pulled out the slinky black thing that, so far, he'd never seen her have occasion to wear. Then he took the shortcut back to the bathroom, hoping her nearly numbed fingers were still having trouble with her buttons.

No such luck. The sight of her hot, damp, and barely covered by a towel though, made a small, strangled sound emerge from his throat, as he stood there dumbly, holding out the slender satin gown. Lydia took one look at it, grimaced, and reached out to accept it, only to have him yank it away again at the last minute, a grin twisting his lips. "Oh _hell _no, babes…"

Suddenly all her patience seemed to leave her in a rush, her good humor gone, and she scowled at him, snapping, "Beetlejuice!" He frowned, suspecting she was serious, if only because she so rarely used his full name without being asked. A little annoyed, he surrendered the black thing, and pointedly turned his back… Though he could see just a corner of the mirror from where he was standing. If he tilted his head just right… "Beetlejuice!"

Grunting, he sat down in midair, put his feet up, and lidded his eyes, willing to accept defeat, for now. He decided to change the subject. "Why'd you get all bent out of shape over that damn ring, anyway?" He muttered. "Sure as hell ain't worth you freezing your ass off!"

A long pause, as he listened to her dress, playing out the motions in his mind, and then softly, "It's important to me, Beej. You gave it to me."

"It's just a ring, babes…" He pointed out, deciding she'd had long enough, and turning his gaze back to her. His gut lurched a little at the sight of her, _now very obviously not twelve year old frame_, in the sweep, clingy material, and his new focus of attention was several inches below her eyes, but he continued on his current train of thought like he hadn't even been distracted. "I mean, I got other ones… It's not like it can't be replaced. I can grift anything I set my mind to… Maybe get you one with something sparkly in it, even."

"I like _this _one." She insisted, opening her palm now, and considering the slender slip of gold, now with nothing to hang from. Before he could protest again, she lifted her eyes to look at him, smile as he didn't really notice, and note softly, "Beej, if it weren't for this ring, you and I would never have been friends. None of the great stuff that's happened in the last few years, would have. Why the hell would I want to give it up?"

This had the effect of actually making him meet her gaze again, surprised, then frowning at little at the soft warmth there. He pretended not to understand, even though quite suddenly, he thought he did. Because his name was on the inside of the ring, she'd called him for the first time. Everything that had happened since, his albeit limited freedom, the kicks they'd had together… All because she'd been snooping in her mom's old stuff.

Beetlejuice crossed his legs, considering her at length. Finally she sighed, deciding, quite mistakenly, that he just didn't get it, and with nowhere else to put the band, slid it with a little smile onto her finger. It fit perfectly. And it surprised him, how it made him stomach flip, seeing _his_ ring there, on her pale and slender finger. Not the _right_ finger, but…

His words to Olivia so long ago, uttered in a taunt, came drifting back to him. _Real cute kid… All pale and dark, just like you were. Wonder if she'd be willing to pay your little debt? I could get used to hanging around with someone all morbid and brooding like her…_ Funny, how stuff like that kept seeming to come back to bite him in the ass.

Lydia lifted her hand, admired the sheen of the slender band in the light, and smiled, casting a far calmer glance back at him. "You know what?" She said softly, "I'm suddenly pretty tired… I think I'm gonna get some sleep." She waited, here, for him to make some crude comment, like it was a game they'd just always played, but he just smiled grimly, nodded, and when she looked puzzled, followed her into her bedroom without another word.

"I hope you're not getting any ideas, Beej…" She teased him at length, drawing the black sheets back, and sliding those long pale legs up under them in a way that drew his gaze, his presently preoccupied thoughts be damned.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Lyds." He smirked, not noticing as she faltered a little, not expecting the easy dismissal. "Kinda got something I gotta take care of anyway… Why don't you get some rest? I'll see you tomorrow."

"Right…" Lydia looked dubious, like she still expected him to pull something, but after only a moment, plastered a smile over that, so quickly that the distracted poltergeist didn't even notice. "See you in the morning, Beej." He nodded, a bit absently, the spark of fire that had formed in his gut at finding her like that, already returning. If anything, stronger than before.

The ring meant something to her, damn it. That asshole had forced himself on her, felt her up, took _his_ ring from her, and tossed it aside like it didn't mean shit. All because he knew it _did_. And it didn't really matter, all the details of why it meant a damn to her… But knowing why, just made him want to hurt the guy more. Pity he didn't know where to find him…

But of course, that kind of thing had never stopped Beetlejuice before…

--------------------------------

'_Bout fucking time…_ Beetlejuice scowled at the brown sedan he'd been over half of Winter River to find, pretty sure he had the right one. Mostly sure. Sure e'fucking-nuff. He ran his fingertips over the hood, tsking at the sorry shape the guy had left it in. Thing looked like it hadn't been washed in years. Scratched all up. Pretty much kicked around as much as a car could be… Almost as much as a car could be.

Beetlejuice gave it a sound 'slap,' charging his juice through the torn up automobile, with sufficient force that… Well, the car exploded. More or less. The doors flew open, off actually, the hood flew up, a loud sound, as well as flames, came from the engine, while the horn proceeded to go completely fucking four alarm, and as an additional little treat, there seemed to be a car alarm that began to scream in several different languages to step away from it.

The front door to the house flew open, and a tall skinny kid with a crew-cut came running out, eyes wide and jaw slack. He didn't seem to notice the poltergeist yet, possibly because Beetlejuice was still invisible, standing behind the kid cracking his knuckles. But the kid didn't act right, for someone whose car just got blown up. He calmed quickly, then just stood there with a little twist of his lips, kicked one tire, which promptly went flat, and shrugged, stepping back to watch it burn.

This kind of pissed off Beetlejuice, if only because he'd intended it to have more of an impact than this. If someone had trashed _his_ car, he'd have been all over them in a second… Presuming he had a car, that was. This guy, he seemed to enjoy watching the flames lick over the hood, mouth set in an amused little grimace. He sort of looked both ways, said something about how he _should_ try to put his dad's car out, then just sort of shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes gleaming a little feverishly in the firelight.

So much for the indirect approach. Beetlejuice stepped into the visible spectrum, walked right up behind the guy, and waited to be noticed. Fingers twitching, eyes narrowed murderously, just _itching_ to rip the little sicko apart. Damn, Lyds really knew how to pick them… But as a minute gave way to two, then three, said kid still didn't notice he wasn't alone. And finally, Beetlejuice had had about all the waiting he could take.

Without warning, he grabbed the kid from behind, spun him, shoving him forward, and slammed him into the twisted body of the car, about half a foot from the flames licking over its hood. Now, _now_ the guy looked shocked, maybe even scared, but also, overwhelmingly, puzzled. Like he just wasn't sure why he was about to get his ass kicked, and it was kind of bugging him.

For the first time, Beetlejuice suddenly hoped he had the wrong guy, if only because he _knew_ messed up when he saw it, and it made his blood cold to think that this Lyds had been anywhere alone with this prick. "You the one who ditched Lydia Deetz at the lake?" He growled at the kid, who still didn't seem nearly alarmed enough for his taste. "Took that ring of hers from her?"

A slow smile spread across her former date's face. "You?" He snickered, like it was just so fucking funny. "You're the guy she's just so fucking hung up over? Gotta tell you… Even that creepy little bitch could do better than you."

The kid was digging for a reaction, but Beetlejuice was determined not to give it to him, yet. With just an ounce of his strength, he could rupture the kid's goddamn brain right in his skull, like some over-popped kernel… And he was tempted to do just that. Couldn't have anything like that tied back to his Lyds though… Beetlejuice's jaw twitched, as he considered just what exactly to do to this kid.

"So," 'Dead Meat,' continued, like it was no big deal to be pinned down on a burning car by the ghost with the most, "Deetz is your piece of ass, huh? Not surprised she goes for creepy old perverts… Seems like her type. So what, you show up now, beat the shit out of me, and go tell her what a big bad man you are?"

The smirk that slowly formed on Beetlejuice's lips was something that made even the sick little bastard in his grasp falter, the eerie light of the burning sedan reflected in his unnatural gaze, in a way no human's should. "Oh no," He denied softly, "Babes? She's never gonna hear about this. This is between you and me, buddy. But before we go any further with this, I just wanna make one thing clear…"

Without further warning, the poltergeist plowed his fist deeply into the guy's gut, making his eyes go wide as he toppled forward, already almost unconscious from just one punch. But Beetlejuice wasn't done yet. He grabbed the kid by the hair, yanked his head back, and met his eyes, his dead gaze burning with fury. "You hurt Lyds," He informed the other softly, simply, "I hurt you."

A further, harder blow, yanking the guy's head down onto his knee, and the kid folded forward like a soggy paper doll. Beetlejuice considered what to do after this. He could put him in the damn car, and let nature take its course, but if Lydia ever found out about it, she'd never look at him the same way again. Killing didn't mean shit to him when he had a good enough reason, he'd been around a long time, and that was just one of many rules he'd broken when he had to… But he wasn't a murderer. No cold blood shit. And he definitely didn't want her thinking of him that way.

The fact was, much as it pissed him off to admit it, this was pretty much all he could do. The kid was a bastard, a twisted little fuck, and he'd probably be doing the world a favor to off him right now, and make him the neitherworld's problem… The fact that he could put on a pleasant enough face to fool Lydia just made him all the more dangerous, he knew.

But Lydia was all right, and this guy wasn't worth the shit he'd get into with Juno, killing him. He gave him one more, solid kick, this time away from the burning car, and went intangible, shaking his head grimly. Sometimes he wished he was as cold-blooded as all that… Sure as hell would make for a lot fewer problems. But with any luck, the prick would get the idea, and stay the hell away from her now. He might be sick, but he probably wasn't suicidal.

And of course, Beetlejuice was willing to beat the shit out of him as many times as it took, to get the point across… But guys like him generally went for easier prey, in the poltergeist's experience. In other words… He was someone else's problem now.

Beetlejuice adjusted his sleeves, for one wild moment tempted to kick him right back into the range of the sedan, now completely encompassed by orange flames. Then he shrugged, twisted his lips in a grimace, and left the kid there, half hoping the damn car would explode, and take him with it. Again, solve a hell of a lot of problems that way…

In the meantime, he'd go pop in on Lyds, see if she was asleep yet… Maybe push her buttons a little, to see that cute little smile of hers, at him acting the ass. Girl was nuts, he realized now, still friends with a guy like him, all this time later. Just about gotten herself killed more times than he could count, not that he'd ever admit that to her. Tonight? Tonight was shit.

And yet it was tonight that had really scared him. Because death was nothing, he brooded, a little against his will, compared to losing her to someone else…

--------------------------------

Lydia was dreaming… The usual sort of dream, sitting at The Freaky Eye-Scream shop with Beetlejuice, only her usual dish was replaced with one crawling with little squirmy things, and the eyeballs were oozing blood, and still she scooped away at the thing hungrily, thinking it was the best damn thing she'd ever eaten.

Across from her, Beetlejuice was having trouble keeping his eyes in his head, literally. They kept falling into his dish, and getting mixed up with the eyeballs already there. She laughed as he grabbed two randomly, then grinned at her, with one yellow eye, and one blue. It was only about this time that she realized she was sitting there in a wedding dress, a black lacy thing that could have passed for a negligee, except for the veil over her hair, and the bouquet of dead roses in her hands… Where those had come from, she had no idea.

And Beetlejuice's eyes popped out again, as he noted absently that she better hurry and eat, because the preacher wasn't going to wait for them forever… And then he proceeded to drain the last of his treat from the dish, which left him with no eyes at all, as he stood, offered his arm to her with a grin, and with a seductive little rasp, invited, 'Shall we?'

Lydia opened her eyes with an odd sense of surrealness, and was momentarily unsure she wasn't still dreaming, to see said ghost lying next to her in the bed, his chin propped up on his fists, watching her sleep.

Making a strangled sound of indignation, as she realized he was real, she grabbed her pillow and hit him with it, forgetting everything but the rush of blood to her cheeks, as she realized she'd been sleeping in the same bed with him. "I'm gonna kill you!" She squeaked, as he cackled, not only dodging her pillow, but grabbing one of his own, and knocking her lightly over the head with it.

"Kinda late for that, babes." He noted, as she persistently tried to bean him over the head, only to get hit herself, repeatedly. Not that he had practice at this game, or anything…

"I don't care!" She giggled, already forgetting her embarrassment, and just enjoying the, to him, rather pleasant game of wrestling in her bed. "I'm gonna kill you again!" She managed to score a lucky hit, right in his face, and he made a sound of indignation, abandoning his makeshift weapon over using his bare hands.

He grasped her by both wrists, wrestling her back until she was pinned to the mattress, then tilted his head with a cocky little grin, daring her to get away. "You… You fucking bastard!" She snickered, squirming under him in a rather pleasant way. "Let me up right now!"

"Mm… Or you're gonna do what, babes?" He challenged her easily, making her finally still from her struggles, mock glaring at him through narrowed eyes, her lips set into a little pout. "Way I see it, I got you right where I want you…"

"Ugh, you are such a dog." She rolled her eyes, then made a feint to knee him in the groin. He though, knew it was just this, and didn't even move to block her, just narrowing his eyes right back, and lowering his face to within about an inch of hers. Slowly, the amusement faded from her features, as she became aware just how close they were to each other, their bodies almost brushing. If he moved his lips now, he'd be kissing her… and suddenly it didn't really seem like a game anymore.

Maybe it was the change in her expression, she didn't know, but suddenly he rolled off her, adjusting his cufflinks again, as she noticed he did when he pointedly wasn't doing something else. "Better take a rain-check, babes," He murmured under his breath, giving her a sly little grin, "You needing sleep and all… But hell, you keep throwing yourself at me that way, no way I'm gonna be able to keep saying no."

"Beej…" She sat up, a pretty little frown twisting her mouth, but he just cackled, tapped her on the corner of the chin, and stood, leaving her there on the bed alone.

God only knew why he was doing it. Every fiber of his being screamed to jump her cute little ass now, while she was still confused… But some little part of his brain, which he currently didn't want to admit to having, whispered at him, _That's Lyds. She deserves better than that. _And the girl had had a long night…

He sighed, scratched his chin, and regarded her with a look to his eyes that left little doubt what he was thinking. It was enough to make her flush warm all over, and her thoughts to twist in confusion. This was _Beetlejuice_. He was her _friend_. Why the _hell_ was he looking at her like that? She'd never felt so utterly young, and not ready for that kind of look, as she did, seeing it in her best friend's eyes.

Then he was gone, without a word, and she was left alone, her cheeks pink, her heart racing, and utterly, completely confused. She looked down at her hands, down at _his_ ring, on _her_ finger, and wondered what the hell kind of can of worms she'd opened.

Because the truth was, the truth she didn't want to admit for the life of her, that when he looked at her like that… When he'd held her down like that… She'd _liked _it…

_--------------------------------_


	4. Confrontations

Beetlejuice doesn't belong to me. If you want to split hairs, I don't know exactly who he belongs to… Tim Burton, The Geffen Film Company, whoever wrote the myriad of scripts… (Probably not that last.) It's all legal techno-babble to me, and I don't know much about that stuff. I do know enough not to claim he's mine, or try to make money off him, or I'm screwed. Which sucks. I mean, who wouldn't want to make a living doing what they love? But I guess I should just be grateful I can do it at all… Where would I be, if I couldn't? …Probably doing it anyway, but if anyone asks, I'll deny it. You'll vouch for me, right?

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Ermmmmm...... I actually got the idea of her swim making her sick from a comment... You DO influence me, you know. :) That being said... I never would have figured out that a swim in frost inducing weather would make someone _sick_... So, yeah. Thanks. This should be interesting.

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In a way, she really did have every reason to expect to find him in bed with her again, when she woke up… But either Beetlejuice was demonstrating remarkable control over his usual pervertedness, or else he was just busy exercising it over someone else. She suspected the latter, and for a brief moment, no matter how little sense it made, it pissed her off. So what, he flirted with her like she was just the hottest new thing, then turned right back to whoever he'd been screwing before, the minute her back was turned?

This irrational frustration was only compounded by a further annoyance as, shortly after sitting up, and trying to yawn, she realized that her nose no longer seemed to work anymore. This, in turn, was followed by a surprisingly painful sneeze. "Shit!" She scowled, rubbing her forehead, which suddenly felt thick with quick drying cement. She'd gotten sick? But she_never_ got sick!

Lydia closed her eyes briefly, focusing on calming the spot between her eyebrows. It felt kinda like someone had hit her in the frigging head… A gurgling, nonsensical sound emerged from her throat, and she pushed herself to her feet wearily, unwilling to just lie in bed all day, even if she did feel crummy. She wondered briefly whether or not Beetlejuice knew any tricks for curing a cold…

Then, pausing even as this thought occurred to her, she lifted her hand with a frown, and considered the ring she was wearing. Well hell, she couldn't go downstairs with that on her finger, could she? With a wiggle and a twist, she popped it off, and set it on her dresser, wondering briefly what she could find to hook it around her neck again.

Well, for a hell of a long time, she'd used a shoestring… No use messing with tradition. A little digging found an old pair of sneakers in the back of her closet, she had to have had them since she was eight, and a little prying with her skilled hands managed to work the slender lace free, despite it not having budged in years. Black and hot pink… Hell, it was just loathsome enough to be cute.

Slipping the ring on her new, improved necklace, she slid it under her nightgown, then paused, considering that in turn with a slightly incredulous air. Why did she even own something like this, anyway? She honestly couldn't remember where she'd gotten it… But chances were, it had been a present from her mother. Olivia had entirely her own ideas of 'appropriate.' Lydia usually preferred her to keep it to herself… But the honest to god truth was, the damn thing looked _good _on her, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

Turning a little to consider her slender curves in the mirror, she had to suppress a giggle, which in her current state came out a bit like a cough. Rolling her eyes, she decided to really piss Beej off, and proceeded to search out her most shapeless, unsexy pair of baggy gray sweats she could find, pursing her lips a little in amusement about what he'd say, when he saw this. Teach him to make her wear something like that slinky black thing… and of course, teach _her_ to let him pick her out something to wear.

This time, she had the presence of mind to dress in the bathroom, not that they'd ever had any particular deals going about how he couldn't peek in on her in there. Since he was as likely to pop in on any of her family though, maybe… But no, he'd love to catch her mother too, wouldn't he? She wondered briefly whether he ever had, and then wondered a bit at the sour twisting in her stomach at the question. Like she really cared either way…

Suitably un-sex-ified, she returned to her bedroom, still expecting the poltergeist to pop in at any time, and on the same hand, wondering if she'd see him again for days. Leaning into her dresser, she frowned at her reflection in the mirror, then, inspired, began digging through her top drawer, to find a stick of eyeliner. She was feeling creative today… and provided she could manage not to sneeze for long enough, she could certainly try something new.

First she thought about doing some sort of Celtic knot across her right cheek, then changed her mind abruptly, and made the slow graceful swoops of a triquetrous across the pale, delicate bone-work instead. It was kind of Celtic… A smirk played across her lip, as she wondered briefly if the protection symbol was anything more than pretty, then shook her head, amused, and searched for a red stick, to add a few flowing touches of her own.

When she was done, she looked as though she'd recently had half her face tattooed, and, if she did say so herself, done quite well. Even if 'glam goth' wasn't usually her thing. Now if she could just get a hot cup of honey tea, maybe she could shake this stuffiness, and be ready to face the day as a mismatch of glam style, and utter indifference.

Bracing her arms against her dresser again, she considered her reflection. Way too pale of course, mostly because the girl just didn't tan, she looked even more so without proper make-up. At the moment, her hair sticking every which way, dressed in her 'I-don't-care' clothes, she looked positively plain. Other than the tattoo. Her mother could never look that way of course. Her mother was always beautiful.

She paused for a moment as she belatedly saw one of her photo albums on the desk beside her, frowning as she wondered who was more likely to have been snooping through her things, her parents, or her poltergeist. She flipped through a few pages, absently. This album was one of her older ones… Still, not bad. But she'd gotten much better with her technique since… _Oh god, these are pictures of the neitherworld… Please tell me my parents weren't looking at them…_

"Sugar?" The unexpected intrusion had her yanking the album closed, only to realize, with something of a sense of relief, that it was just Ginger, addressing her from her mirror. The pink spider's large mouth was drawn up in a bow of worry, her dark eyes positively limpid. She really was quite beautiful, Lydia reflected… "Are you all right, hon? I just heard the news!"

News? Lydia's mind was spinning, could she mean last night? How the _hell_ did the neitherworld keep up on what she was doing so well? She wasn't still being followed by those damn shutterbugs, was she? She thought with the prince out of the picture… "Ginger, please tell me what you mean, before I go worst case scenario?" She begged with a weak smile.

Ginger looked surprised. "You and the prince, sugar!" She exclaimed, clearly not seeing how Lydia could have not known what she was talking about. "I mean, how could he break up with you like that?"

_Him?_ Break up with _her?_ This was the first she'd heard of this version… But she suspected the royal family had something to do with that. Couldn't let it be known that someone they didn't approve of their son dating in the first place, had then _dumped_ him… "I think it was just time we both moved on." She murmured uncomfortably, hoping the other girl would change the subject.

"Oh, but Lydia, you two were just the perfect couple!" Ginger protested, with a much regretful sigh. "Everyone said so!"

Lydia's lips twisted a little in pained amusement. "You mean everyone that wasn't accusing me of robbing the grave?" She noted dryly, well aware that their relationship had, in fact, been a matter of much contention. "Or him of being a biophiliac?"

"Well, yeah…" Ginger faltered, turning pinker than usual. Obviously she hadn't known that the girl was privy to that kind of talk. "But most people thought it was real romantic, the two of you being in love, despite the whole, you being still alive thing!"

Despite the whole, her being still alive thing. Not the whole, him being dead thing. She wondered if her parents would have felt the same way. "Romantic," She echoed softly, "Ging, he's the most romantic guy in the neitherworld, no question. But he was constantly taking flak from being around me, even if he never admitted it. I mean, I'm best friends with _Beetlejuice_, for shit's sake. People said I was corrupting the royal line… All that crap."

Ginger just stared at her, her large eyes even wider than usual. "Sugar," She whispered at last, softly, "Did you break up with _him_? 'Cause you thought you were causing him trouble? Because you know, he never gave a darn either way about all that…"

Hard to believe, but Lydia _could_ believe it. "No," She denied, settling on this half truth, "I'm not that self sacrificing." A smile twisted her lips. "Can we talk about something else for a while, Ging? This whole break-up's still kind of raw… and I had a really long night."

A long pause, and then Ginger forced a smile, about as fake as something Claire Brewster would have once managed to summon. "Sure thing, hon…"

It was a moment before she thought of anything else to say though… But then abruptly she hit on it. "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you! The monster across the street got those hulla-baloo-folksy tickets he's been on so bad about… But since he was only able to get the two for him and Poopsie, he's throwing a party for all his friends that can't come!" She grinned, much more genuinely, adding, "He'd tell you himself, but he's real shy about maybe peeking in on you in your skivvies, so he asked me to, instead."

Despite herself, just the idea cheered Lydia up a little. "A party?" She echoed, sounding much more like her devilish self. "With weird neitherworld goodies, god-awful country music, and awkward dancing?" Ginger just giggled at her description. "Damn, that sounds awesome… Um, you guys can't catch colds, right?"

The pink spider tilted her head, looking at her oddly for a moment, before her face lit up with understanding. "Oh… I was wondering why you sounded funny, doll." Her brow was squished up a little with sympathy. "Naw, 'bout one of the only good things about being dead, is that you can't get sick. How'd you get a cold, anyway? Is it real bad?"

"Mostly just a little stuffy." She denied, stubbornly ignoring the tickle at the back of her throat. "Look, Ging, is that invitation _just_ for me? I mean… Is Beej gonna be able-?"

"Lydia?" Her door swung open without warning, and with a yelp, Lydia reached through the mirror, and pushed her friend forcibly out of sight, before yanking her own hands free. She plastered a shit eating smile to her face as Barbara came the rest of the way into her room, paused, and looked around in puzzlement. "Were you talking to someone?"

"Just trying out my voice." Lydia lied easily, exaggerating her stuffiness as she spoke. "Woke up with kind of a cold…"

She expected a look of sympathy to cross the ghost woman's face, but instead Barbara's mouth just sort of pressed out into a thin line, and she regarded the girl with the same sort of look she'd used to give her, back when she was still getting into fights on a regular basis. "I'll make you some honey tea while you come downstairs," She murmured at last, just a little tensely, "There's something we need to talk about."

Well, _that_ never boded well… "Yes, Barb." Lydia agreed, puzzled, but resigned to being punished for something, even if she didn't know what. If she was being so calm about it though, chances were she hadn't found out about Beetlejuice… That was a talk she could certainly wait as long as possible to have. "Just give me a minute, okay? I'll meet you in the living room."

For a moment, she thought Barb was going to press it, but then the woman just nodded, a little tersely, and said something about putting tea on. Lydia waited until she was gone, then pretty much dove for the mirror, putting her head clean through to look for Ginger.

The pretty blush-colored girl was hiding, along with a familiar good-natured skeleton, under her vanity. "'Allo, Miss Lydia!" Jacques greeted her amiably, his face split into its usual skeleton grin. "What are we 'iding from?"

Embarrassed, Lydia shook her head, drawing back to her side of the mirror, as Ginger drew Jacques out of their hiding place. "You know my family can't find out about me visiting the neitherworld…" She began, a little awkwardly, "But… sorry about that." She gave them a little smile, then added, with mild amusement, "Better go see what I did wrong this time. I'll get back to you about that party, all right?" As an afterthought, she added, "Nice to see you, Jacques!"

"And as always, nice to see you, Miss Lydia!" The body builder agreed, looking rather amused over the whole thing.

Lydia only took time to stash her photos in one of the desk drawers, checked to make certain her ring was hidden, second nature after all this time, then wondered if she could put off going down, long enough to blow her nose. _Better just grab some tissues…_

Adam and Barbara were waiting in the living room, equally grim faced. She wondered again what she'd done, and why her living parents weren't there to be part of her undoubtedly forthcoming lecture. "Um, okay…" She said slowly, making a mental note not to apologize for anything they didn't accuse her of, first. "So, what's with the disapproving looks? I know I got back on time last night… I was only gone an hour."

This seemed to catch Barbara at least, off guard for a moment. "Well, I didn't hear you come in, I guess that explains it. I wouldn't have expected you so soon…" She had, as far as she knew, no reason to doubt the girl. That was the one thing that bothered Lydia about lying to her parents all this time… The fact that they still trusted her. But it did have its uses.

Briefly distracted from whatever he was about to scold her over, Adam mused, "I should have known something was wrong when he didn't come in. If Edmond were here, he would have gone out after him, just honking the horn like that. It really isn't like Vincent to be so-"

"Um… It wasn't Vincent." Both ghosts fell silent at this, staring at her, for the moment at least, without understanding. "See, we broke up about a week ago. That was some other guy, and… Well, he turned out to be an ass, so I came home early."

The look on Barbara's face, as she gradually accepted what Lydia was saying as true, was devastated. Bad enough seeing that look on Vincent's face, she hadn't expected that from her foster mother too… "But the two of you were such a wonderful couple!" She protested, from the tone of her voice, taking this far too personally.

"I don't understand," Adam agreed, with a far more rational tone, but the same sort of utter disappointment in his features, "I know the two of you didn't get much time together," Yet _another _lie she was guilty of, "But you've been exchanging letters since you were twelve… And you spent every Halloween together! Even if he did always wear the same costume…" He shook his head. "You always seemed so happy together."

There was of course, no explaining the long list of reasons why the two of them weren't the perfect couple her foster parents seemed to think they were, but for now Lydia settled for this. "Some things change… and some don't. I guess maybe we were too different, and couldn't avoid it anymore." She shook her head, really wishing they'd change the subject. "Anyway, I don't really want to talk about it. It's still kind of new, you know? Besides," And here was a risky gambit, "Wasn't there something you wanted to talk to me about?"

That quickly of course, both remembered just how annoyed with her they were, but at the same time, it was clear that they just didn't want to drop the subject so quickly. Of course she knew that it was most likely for entirely selfish reasons… They loved that Vincent could see them, albeit without knowing why, and probably secretly harbored some hope that the relationship would lead to something permanent. That they could all be a family… again. Like with her dad.

After a moment, Barbara started to say something, only to be interrupted by a high-pitched whistle from the kitchen. She pressed her lips into an unhappy line, glanced at Adam, and excused herself to get Lydia's tea.

The only thing worse than being confronted with both her disapproving foster parents, Lydia quickly decided, was being alone with Adam, as he waited for his wife to return, so they could ream her out together. The look of personal disappointment and betrayal in his features, as he gazed over the rims of his glasses at her, lips set into a frown that just didn't belong on his good natured mouth… He was taking whatever she'd done wrong, very close to heart.

And she didn't even know what the fuck it was.

"Here you are, Lydia." Barbara swept back into the room, albeit without her usual glowing warm presence, looking if anything, suddenly reluctant to broach the subject she'd been called down there for.

Lydia accepted her drink with a quiet 'thank you,' and did her best to breathe the sweet-smelling stuff in through her nose. For all the good that did. A sip of it though, did calm that irritating scratching at the back of her throat. She took several drinks, then decided to face this head on, lowering the cup, and admitting flatly, "Okay, I really have no clue what you two are mad about. Can you just tell me what I'm supposed to have done wrong?"

Adam was the one to take a deep breath, albeit one he didn't really need, square his shoulders, and inform her as bluntly as possible, "Lydia? We know you're smoking."

Smoking? Her eyebrow flew up, a little surprised, as well as amused, that this wasn't a conversation they'd had years before now. Damn Beetlejuice and those nasty things he loved… Aloud though, she just made a little sound of having absorbed this, then easily, because it wasn't a lie, countering with, "No, I don't."

This was clearly the last response either of them expected… Having confronted her with it, she was simply supposed to admit it, then apologize, accept her punishment, and swear never to do it again. Did they know her at _all_? "Lydia," Barbara's voice was tight, "We smelled the smoke in your room."

Again, Lydia made a soft sound, of having absorbed this. "So… You smelled smoke in my room. While I wasn't there. And that means I'm smoking?" Neither one of them had a ready answer to this. "I mean, I know the smell hangs around a while, there's kids at school even I can tell smoke… But guys, I really don't. You wanna search me? Search my room?" She gave a minute for this to sink in. "Should be easy having ghost powers… I mean, you're always finding my dad's keys for him, right? Same deal."

Of course, at least a considerable amount of this 'reasoning' was a bluff. If they ever got it into their heads to search her room, god only knew what they'd find. There had to be a million little post-it's in every drawer that screamed, '_Hello, I hang out with Beetlejuice_…'

But she didn't expect them to call her bluff, at least partially because she knew she was a damn good liar… Which would bother her to no end later, but at the moment, just kind of worked for her. But she supposed she had learned from the best…

Adam frowned, held out his hand, and snapped his fingers. Of course, the two of them had so little experience actually using their meager ghostly powers, that it was a toss-up of whether it would have worked either way. But Lydia just smiled a little, confident that they'd find nothing, because… Well, because there was nothing to find. Beetlejuice's cigarettes were no more corporeal than he was. But the bottom line was, nothing appeared in his hand.

"Wanna try for incense now?" Lydia prompted softly, going out of her way to look like she really wasn't annoyed with them for their unwarranted suspicions… That she even found it touching that they worried about her like this. She held up her hand, and started flicking off names. "I've got white sage, sandalwood, dragons-blood… Purifying stuff. Probably one of those." She lifted an eyebrow again, adding, "I think I even have…"

"That was not incense, young lady." Adam denied grimly.

She let him have his say, then smiled, ad innocently, went on, saying, "I think I even have wild tobacco. It's the green ones. Good for cleansing spaces."

Her foster parents looked abruptly dumbfounded, and then Adam flicked his fingers again, and this time the slender olive green sticks appeared in his hand, the dust crumbling off them onto his fingers. Again, he looked at a loss for words, but for now, he did smell them. Lydia couldn't quite keep the look of amusement off her face.

"I've been burning them for years," She noted aloud, lacing her fingers behind her head, and trying not to look _too _amused, "The smell doesn't last long, and they're no worse for you than any other incense. I promise." The look of dawning relief on Adam's face was priceless, but it did leave her with a twinge of guilt in her gut. She'd had those damn things in her drawer for years… She was starting to think she'd never get any use out of them. "So… Does that mean I'm not in trouble?"

"I think so." Like Adam, Barbara looked nothing so much as profoundly relieved, and gave her a grateful little smile, even looking embarrassed. "I should have known you'd never get caught up in something stupid like that… We just had to be sure, Lydia."

"Right. I know the drill. Someday I'll have kids that'll drive me as crazy as I drive you." She took the opportunity to pull the tissues out of her pocket, her intentions twofold… One, to clear her sinuses, which now seemed capable of moving the gunk in them, after her hot tea, and two, to change the subject as quickly as possible.

Of course, it worked. "Oh honey, how did you get sick?" Barbara gushed, abruptly in mothering mode again, sweeping her up in her cool, pleasant smelling arms. "You never get sick… I just know it's because you leave your window open all the time! Why do you do that?"

"No common sense?" Lydia mused dryly, rather enjoying the feeling of being in her foster mother's arms. "I mean, I really _don't _have any…"

Barbara sighed, muttering agreement under her breath. "I'll call your mom at work, have her pick you up some cold medicine. I doubt we have any in the house." A small pause, then, with a glance at Adam, "You think we can do that?" As if it had simply never occurred to either one of them to try to use the phone before.

"Probably not." He sighed, not looking too upset over this. "It's probably just a cold, all she needs are fluids and rest. By the way," He looked at her again, peering over his glasses in that way he had, this time with his mouth drawn up warmly, the way it was supposed to be, "We saw those photos you left out on your desk. You're _really_ good, Lydia… Maybe even better than your mother."

"Of course, Olivia doesn't use computers for her photography…" Barbara amended, even as Lydia's heart briefly went into panic mode. Instead she was left looking at the ghost woman with surprise, then slowly, relief. She thought they were photo-shopped? Oh, thank _god_…

"Um, yeah…" Lydia was about to say more, when a massive shiver wracked her body, actually unplanned. It shocked her into monetary silence, and then the next thing she knew, she was gripped in a horrible sneezing fit. Damn, damn, _damn_… She did _not_ want to be sick!

Her parents looked appropriately alarmed, and the next thing she knew, her godmother was ushering her back up the stairs, muttering below her breath about chicken soup, and mint compresses, and more honey tea… Lydia just sighed, surrendering to her ministrations, and found herself soon tucked securely under her covers, much as she had been when she was a little girl.

"Do I get a story too?" She asked dryly, the effect somewhat spoiled by her stuffy voice.

"You'll be better by tomorrow." Barbara informed her, rather severely. "I haven't _met _the cold I can't beat in twenty-four hours. So don't think you'll be getting out of school, because of a little stuffy head…"

"No, ma'am." Lydia agreed, grimacing, in order not to smile. She'd be waited on hand and foot for the rest of the day now… Well, maybe being sick had its perks after all. It had been a long time since she'd been through a good pampering. And being spoiled by Barb was just about the best thing she could think of…

"Well." Straightening, after adjusting her 'tuck' for the seventh time, she ran her hands down the front of her dress, managed a little smile after the already emotionally exhausting day she'd had, and noted softly, "You just stay here, I'll have your breakfast up in no time. Just some of that canned stuff for now, but for dinner, the real thing. From scratch."

"Thanks, Barb." Lydia murmured, deciding a day in bed wasn't all bad… So long as _someone_ didn't get it in his head to act like a complete asshole while she was sick. No guarantee of that though… But she was going to rip into him properly for almost getting her into trouble. _And I even have an excuse to be in a bad mood too_, she thought with a little twist of her lips. This was gonna be fun.

She stretched out in her clean, soft bed, and burrowed her arms up under her pillow, stretching into the cool, comfortable sheets. First she'd take care of today, then she could worry about tomorrow. Just as it seemed like things might be going back to 'normal' again though, a sudden, soft interruption, drew her eyes sharply across her room, to the large vanity mirror. "Miss Lydia?"

_Oh. God_. Her heart sank. _Vincent…_

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	5. Sorting Out

Beetlejuice doesn't belong to me. If you want to split hairs, I don't know exactly who he belongs to… Tim Burton, The Geffen Film Company, whoever wrote the myriad of scripts… (Probably not that last.) It's all legal techno-babble to me, and I don't know much about that stuff. I do know enough not to claim he's mine, or try to make money off him, or I'm screwed. Which sucks. I mean, who wouldn't want to make a living doing what they love? But I guess I should just be grateful I can do it at all… Where would I be, if I couldn't? …Probably doing it anyway, but if anyone asks, I'll deny it. You'll vouch for me, right?

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Okay, odd chapter, I don't deny it. But there's more Beetlejuice action in this one, than the last. Which got very few reviews, people. :( Incidentally, how do you view Beetlejuice? More as an irreverent trickster, or a feral timebomb? I do try to strike a balance... That doesn't mean it actually works, but I do try.

Happy Holidays! I give you this chapter to read, as a present, now you give me nice reviews to read, as presents!

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"May, we speak for a moment, Miss Lydia?" It made her stomach seize a little, how utterly uncertain he sounded. As if he didn't think he even had the right to talk to her anymore, now that she'd brushed him to the side. "If you aren't busy, that is?"

"I'm, in bed." She said slowly, sitting up. Oh god, Barb could come back at like any second… "I'm not feeling too well today."

A hesitation, then, with a trace of the strength she'd heard in his voice a time or two before, "Have you been harmed again, my Lydia? Has someone laid hands on you?" All protective and possessive again, just as if he still took personal responsibility in her well being…

It should have puzzled her, his assumption, but the fact was that it didn't. She'd had a habit of getting herself into tight spots, even longer than she'd known the prince… They'd first met in fact, when she was still half covered in bruises from one of her recent 'indiscretions.' It really wasn't strange for him to assume that she'd just gotten into trouble again. Which, in a way, she supposed she had. "I'm just a little sick," She denied, throwing off her lovingly tucked blanket, and crossing to her mirror. "I-"

"Ill?" Now he sounded truly alarmed, and proved it in fact, by appearing in her mirror visibly, rather than just as a voice. He'd never done that before, without being certain she was dressed first. "My Lydia, is it serious? Are you in pain?"

"It's, just a cold." She denied, said cold then taking that opportunity to make her sneeze. She covered her nose, relieved not to end up with a handful of flem, and cast him a little, awkward smile. "Nothing that won't be gone in a day or two."

"Oh… thank goodness." She wasn't certain though, if he sounded more relieved, or disappointed. If he was disappointed that she wasn't on her death bed, then it was the most selfish emotion he'd ever expressed to her… And she was a little beside herself, how to feel about it. "Lydia, if you're that unwell, I can speak to you another time, I suppose. That is," A small pause, and a sad gleam to his dark eyes, "If you still wish to speak with me?"

"Sure." She grabbed the chair from her desk, and dragged it up to her dresser, figuring they might as well get the awkward first conversation after breakup, out of the way. He was someone she still cared about, and after even just the last few days apart, she realized she didn't want him to just disappear, now that it was over. "But now's okay." A hesitation, as she dreaded the answer to her next words. "How are you holding up?"

His gaze turned thoughtful, the stance of his lips just a trace more regretful. "Well, I have not been happy… But I suppose that must go without saying, my- Ah, Miss Lydia. Still," A soft sigh escaped him, "I cannot say that it caught me entirely by surprise. I had suspected that, you were no longer as happy with me, as you once were." A moment to let this sink in, and her to squirm uncomfortably, before he asked quietly, "Lydia, did I do something wrong?"

Did he do something wrong? _No_. He didn't _do_ anything. And she felt like an idiot, because now she'd had her first kiss and everything, even kissed a couple of guys, so got that whole milestone out of the way, and… And now she wasn't even sure that was the real reason she'd broken up with him at all. Certainly it wasn't an excuse she could give _him_.

But she did have to give him an answer. "Vincent," She began slowly, still working out the words in her head, even as she said them, "I'm almost sixteen now… I know that's not that old, but that's kind of the point. I mean," _Was_ there a delicate way to say this? "You're the only guy I've ever dated, you know?"

He considered her at length, as if expecting there must be something more. Then, when it became clear that this was all she had to say, he smiled, a truly heartbreaking smile, and murmured, "And you Lydia, are the only girl I have ever loved."

His words hit her kind of like a fork through her forehead, and she was left dumbly for a moment, trying to find words that wouldn't make the declaration he'd just made, sound utterly rejected. Because of course, she honestly didn't know if she could say it back. She'd _liked_ him, liked him… But love? Or just, a really close friend, that never quite became something more? God, he'd never said he _loved_ her before…

"Guess there's not much to say, to something like that." She said at last, painfully quiet. "Look, Vincent, I'm only fifteen." _Not sixteen… Not yet…_ "I just can't see planning out the rest of my life now. Spending forever with the first guy who gave a damn about me, without knowing what I want. You know?"

That sounded pathetic, even to her, and yet it was the closest thing she could figure to the truth. It certainly didn't help, the sympathetic set to his mouth, like everything she was saying made perfect sense… When he'd told her himself, that he would have married her years ago, if she'd let him. But at the moment, he seemed to be honestly thinking this through. "Then, you simply do wish to court other men?" He asked, clearly choosing his words carefully. "Perhaps to compare, to see if I am truly the one you wish to spend your eternity with?"

Well damn, there was another fork between the eyes… And a hella big word. _Eternity_. And of course, before she could think of a remotely sane answer to this prompting, he looked at her with what might even have been called a gleam of hope to his eyes. "I see… I simply moved too quickly." Which of course, was the one thing he _hadn't _done. "Then, may I continue to court you as well? To perhaps hasten your decision?"

As if there was simply no other possible outcome, than her running back to him… And he of course, would have her with open arms. All forgiven. _Fuck_. And all she could do was wish to god she could look away from those warm dark eyes, and say softly, "I don't think so, Vincent."

And there it was, the hope drowning in his suddenly desperately lonely eyes, as if she'd just told him she had no intention of ever seeing him again. "Is it…?" He began, then paused, and looked as if he didn't know himself if this was what he should be saying. "Is it because I'm, 'too nice,' Lydia?"

"What?" She blinked in surprise, only to have him feign a smile, and mutter something under his breath, about what someone had said to him. "What?" She pressed again, a little more frustrated this time. Nice? He thought she was dumping him because he was _nice_?

He cleared his throat, not quite meeting her gaze anymore. "Some of my extended family… They informed me that, well, those not of noble birth, might consider my mannerisms and behavior… too nice. I'm not certain of the meaning myself. Perhaps, that you found me too stiff? Or boring?"

"You were never boring!" Lydia snapped, suddenly angry with his family, who'd never even been willing to meet her, and never liked her anyway, simply because she was alive, feeding off the prince's already insecure nature. As if just because she was _common_, she couldn't possibly appreciate a guy like him, and so somehow it was all his fault, for liking her in the first place. "The best part of you is that you're a nice guy, and not like all the assholes other girls have to deal with!"

"And what's more," She went on, her voice building right along with her frustration, while he just stared at her in surprise, "If I was really that kind of person, I wouldn't be sitting here feeling like a complete jerk about how I treated you, just so we could still be friends! I'd just run the other way so fast, it'd make your royal head spin!"

She pretty much ran out of breath at this point, and just glowered down at her hands, before she was gripped by another sneezing fit, and had to run for some tissues, to avoid what would have been a rather embarrassing mess. "Shit…" She muttered under her breath, wiping her nose, not willing to go all honking and just blow, with him right there. And why the hell did she even care?

"I've upset you, and you're already unwell…" He sounded angry with himself, but before he could go any further, she spun on him, eyes flashing.

"Stop being so hard on yourself, right now!" She snapped, not really angry with him, but his damned royal family. "Look, you have been nothing but great," She went on, her voice dropping a little as she reined in her temper, "And I don't want to lose you as a friend. But right now, I don't even know… If you're even going to let me keep coming to the neitherworld. I mean, I wouldn't blame you, if you didn't…"

"Why wouldn't I?" He sounded genuinely confused. "Lydia, I've always considered the neitherworld as much your home as mine… I had hoped you felt the same way."

Once again, there was nothing to say to that. "I kind of thought you'd say that." She agreed, wishing for one wild moment that she felt different. That she could just go running back to him, and be happy with that. But she _didn't _feel different. And the truth was, she didn't know if she really ever had. "So… Friends?"

"Friends." He agreed softly, looking oddly relieved. "I don't know what I would do, if I simply lost you completely, dear Lydia… And perhaps, as your friend, I will have a way to prove I am worthy of more."

Well, if that made him happy… She'd deal with it later, anyway. In fact, before she could worry about it any further, she heard a knock on the door as this time Barbara, thankfully, didn't simply barge in. Her heart in her throat, she sprang up, and ran to the heavy wooden door, throwing her body against it with a little squeak. "Don't come in! I'm talking to Vincent!" It was just such a natural thing to say, that it never even occurred to her to lie…

"Oh, good." Barbara should not have sounded that relieved. "I'll be back in a few minutes then… Give this soup time to cool." And then her footsteps, leading away…

Just about spread-eagled against the door, Lydia cast a sort of desperate grin to Vincent, who looked a bit puzzled, though he didn't question it. He was quite used to her hiding her connection to the neitherworld, of course… But he never seemed to get over finding it strange. "Then, we are, all right?" He pressed after a moment, as she walked back up to the mirror, clearly deciding that the best tactic was simply to ignore the display she'd just offered.

Lydia nodded, but before she could say anything more on the matter, she was interrupted yet again. This time by a solid, weighty thump from behind her, and an exaggerated yawn. "Wow babes, don't know about you, but I've had a helluva- What the hell are you wearing?" There it was, the distinct annoyance she'd been aiming for when she put on this outfit, only at the moment, it really wasn't her biggest focus of attention.

"What are you _doing_ on Lydia's bed?" The prince's voice suddenly found reason to rise itself, as he leaned forward in the mirror, eyes flashing at the sight of the ghost with the most, appearing randomly on her mattress. "What right do you have-?"

"Prince-arino…" Beetlejuice tore his eyes from her only reluctantly, finally took in the sight of her ex in the mirror, and looked first cross, then amused. "Hell, I don't think you have much say over who's in her bed anymore, your royal lowness… Not sure you ever did." He paused for a moment to pick at his fingernails with his teeth, cross-legged, while Vincent fumed over how to respond to this. "Seriously, I'd say you forfeited boyfriend privileges a hell of a long time before babes there dumped you…"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" The prince asked coldly. The fact that he'd never liked Beetlejuice was one he'd never bothered to conceal, but at the moment, the both of them were about equally pissing her off.

"Stop it!" She groaned, putting her hand to her head. "I'm sick enough without getting a headache from you two going at each other's throats!"

Beetlejuice's eyebrows flew up, and so did his gaze, as he forgot his grimy nails for a moment. "Hell Lyds, didn't think you _got_ sick. That why you're all swathed up like the dead? Hold on." He got to his feet, sort of, as such feet never quite touched the ground, and drifted over to her, a thoughtful sort of look on his face.

As she looked at him in puzzlement, he proceeded to pull a doctor's stethoscope out of his pocket, stuck the ends in his ears, and before she could protest, had the other side pressed against the scant sliver of bare skin at her chest. "Go on, breathe for me, babes." He urged, lips curled in just the faintest crack of a grin, well aware he was about an inch from feeling her up, and well aware that she knew it too, and was trying not to blush.

"You are _not_ a doctor, Beetlejuice!" Vincent snapped, taking away any need for her to offer the protest. "Remove your hands from her this instant!"

"Best friend here, buddy." Beetlejuice informed him with an absent mutter, utterly without any regard for his station at all. "Trumps ex-boyfriend every time. Deep breath, Lyds…" Not sure what else to do, Lydia obeyed, and almost instantly let out a deep, chest rattling cough, one she hadn't even known was building. Beetlejuice's eyebrows flew up again. "Well hell, that's not good…"

"It's just a cold." She muttered under her breath, pushing away his hands, which she did _not _trust not to wander.

"Lots of things start out as colds, babes… Here, hold still." He shoved the stethoscope in his pocket, rubbed his hands together, and got a sort of intense frown to his features. "Now, I'm not feeling you up, babes… Wouldn't bother with an excuse, if that was what I had in mind… Just stand there, and try not to freak out on me. This is gonna be a little cold…"

Lydia opened her mouth to protest, behind her she could hear Vincent already doing just this, when suddenly Beetlejuice clapped both hands around her, one flat against her back, one hard against her chest… And she was seized with a ripping sense of cold that shot through her from head to toe, making every hair stand on end, and a little squeak of surprise escape her lips.

Beetlejuice just grinned, letting her go a little more slowly than necessary, and took the stethoscope out of his pocket once more. "All right then, let's try that again." The cold instrument against her chest. "Breathe for me, babes."

It really wasn't necessary though, every ounce of congestion had left her body, and Lydia already knew it. She could breathe through her nose. The tickle in the back of her throat was gone. And what's more, even the headache that had been building for the past hour or so had faded completely. "Shit!" She hissed, taking the deep breath for him nonetheless, though said breath's only purpose seemed to be to give him an excuse to stare at her inflating chest. "How'd you do that?"

"Ghost with the most, babes. How many times I gotta tell you?" Still, he looked inordinately pleased with himself, though that was pretty much his usual expression. "Now what the hell would you do without me around, Lyds…?"

"I could have done that," The prince interrupted with a steely voice, reminding them both of his presence, "Had I simply known it was possible. And was it really necessary to manhandle her that way?"

"Huh." Finally the poltergeist seemed to grow annoyed with the extra company, and gave Vincent as serious a look as she'd ever seen on his normally humorous face. "Probably not. But you don't know either fucking way, do you? I mean," And here his voice dropped, becoming just a little more possessive than usual over the goth girl, "You got just as much fucking power as I do, right? You just never bothered learning to _use_ it."

"I have never seen cause to abuse the powers granted to me by-!" Vincent snapped, actually furious, something she hadn't seen in him in a helluva long time, only to be interrupted, again.

"Yeah, well, Lyds _likes _a little abuse of power, don't you babes?" Beetlejuice growled, clearly beginning to lose patience as well. "Likes it when a guy knows what he wants, and goes for it… But I guess you wouldn't know shit about _that_, would you?"

There was no way this could end well, and Lydia could only try to interpose herself between the two, cutting off their macho staring contest, if nothing else. This didn't however, stop Vincent from noting, in a furious hiss, "How the two of us could ever share-!"

"A place in our babes's heart?" Beetlejuice countered with a sneer, only to turn his back on both, and before she knew what he was doing, grab the blanket from her bed, and heave it in one smooth throw over the mirror. "Bottom line, buddy… We don't. Not anymore." Then he hooked her by the arm, and with exactly the same note of challenge and contempt in his voice, added, "Now see, I'm gonna need a little private time with Lyds now… Be a good little ex, and crawl away!"

"Filthy beast!" She heard him offer from behind the curtains, right before his voice faded completely. "I refuse to waste my time!"

"See babes," Beetlejuice noted to her, suddenly far calmer, "He thinks fighting over you is a waste of time. Well hell, you know I'd never give up that easily!" He seemed quite surprised when her only answer to this was a heavy stomp to his foot, and in fact, made a sound of outrage, staggering back. "What the hell, babes?" He demanded, angry again.

"What the hell was that about?" She countered, angry herself, confused, and more than a little overwhelmed. "You two acting like a couple half-wild dogs fighting over a favorite chew toy?" She advanced on him, making him scowl, and take a step back, but not make an answering move against her. "I can understand where he's coming from… At least I think I can… But you? What makes you think you have that kind of claim on me?"

His eyes narrowed, a gleam there she couldn't exactly read, but something hot and deep that made her gut lurch, and made her forget her anger. "You were mine first, babes." Was all he said though, very quietly, right before he vanished before her eyes.

Even as she tried to process this, there was a knock on her door again, that made her spin in that direction with her heart in her throat, and her chest burning. "Lydia? Can I come in now? Your soup's going to get cold…"

She had one instant to think. To plan this through, to figure this out… She grabbed a dry coat from the closet, threw it on, and pressed past Barbara, standing in the doorway, with as little explanation as possible. "I'm going out!"

"But you're sick!" Barbara protested, trying to follow her, without spilling the aforementioned soup. "You're only going to make yourself worse!"

"I'm going out!" She said it louder this time, her voice strained, and before the female ghost could stop her, she was already through the front door, crossing the barrier that Barbara could never follow her past. She was aware of the woman behind her, yelling, but in that moment only two things mattered. She needed to clear her head…

And she needed to find Beetlejuice.

--------------------------------

"_Fuck_." Beetlejuice grumbled, once again wishing to god he could just get drunk, like the living. "Stupid Prince Vince, Damn Lyds…" He stared into his double-shot of whiskey, like the answers lay in the bottom of the glass of amber liquid, lips drawn up into an annoyed little scowl. "Whole fucking thing is just-"

"Girl problems?" The bartender prompted, looking far too fucking amused for Beetlejuice's tastes. "Aren't you usually the one that _causes_ those?" Just as the poltergeist was about to come up with a wiseass remark though, another tumbler was pushed at him, and grudgingly, he let the other's good humor go. "So, you finally found one to break your heart, huh?"

"Don't know what you're talking about, buddy." Beetlejuice denied, downing his double, then reaching for the next without pause, and swallowing that down too. "Women are nothing but fucking trouble… Can't decide if you're their best friend, or the guy they want to jump their bones, or just the poor slob they wanna kick around."

"Best friend?" The bartender made a sound of amusement, starting to pour another, and pausing as the ghost simply grabbed the bottle instead, and took a swig out of that. "Well, I assume you're not talking about Stacy…"

Beetlejuice looked up at him blearily, not from drink, but from an utterly frustrated mood. "Who?" He demanded shortly, only to have even the bartender look disapproving, and shake his head. "What? Oh, _her_." He made a face, and ran his fingers through his mop of hair. "Damn, I was supposed to see her today, wasn't I? Ah, what the hell ever. Get me some scotch while you're at it."

"Even you can drink yourself to death." The guy, whose name Beetlejuice had never bothered to learn, despite many conversations like this, reached under the bar, and pulled up a bottle of scotch nonetheless. "And you're paying for that whole bottle of whiskey, by the way."

"Yeah, whatever." Beetlejuice poured himself a shot, picked up the glass between thumb and forefinger, and grunted. "Gotta ask you… You ever had a chick really get under your skin? I mean, you find yourself thinking about her all the time, and it ain't even naked… You realize you'd hang around with the broad even if you didn't have a chance in hell at her?"

"I have." The man assured him, his gaze more than a little distasteful. "You on the other hand, I don't buy ever feeling like that."

"What the fuck do you know?" Beetlejuice grumbled, sucking down the fiery liquid, and reaching for the bottle again. "What the hell does she know? Treating her like a chew toy, she says. Acting like a wild dog. Didn't chew out that ex of hers for acting the ass… Course not. He can do no wrong. Stupid son-of-a-bitch spouting stuff that oughta stay unsaid…" He fixed his confidant with a steady glare. "Some things are better unsaid, you know?"

"Sure, whatever." The man, just about the only person in Winter River that Beetlejuice had any regular dealings with, other than Lydia, left him where he sat, and went to get a leggy redhead at the end of the bar her drink.

Beetlejuice considered the chick for a moment, utterly uninterested, for once, in pursuing the already alcohol-sodden woman. She'd been there even longer than him… Easy score. Any other night, he'd jump on it. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Beej?" Beetlejuice blinked, certain for a moment that he'd heard wrong, then looked puzzledly at the shot of amber fluid, as if this might be what was addressing him. Not because he was drunk, he wasn't, but because it was just so unexpected. "Hey, over here." Lydia pulled herself onto the stool next to him, swathed in a black coat, still buried in her shapeless gray sweats, a little twist of amusement to her lips. "Guess it works both ways, huh?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He grumbled, a little amused to see the ever incorrigible teen wandering into the local bar without so much as a glance either way.

"That binding you put on me." She answered easily, propping her chin on her knuckles, and regarding him like he was just so damn fascinating… "This time, I followed it to you. Didn't know I could do that, did you?"

"Huh." He considered her sideways, then belatedly, held up the bottle. "So, you gonna join me in a drink, or what, Lyds?"

"I'm underage, Beej." She informed him calmly, following the glint of liquor with her eyes, briefly, before turning her gaze back to him. "Look, I… I wanted to apologize." His eyebrows flew up, and he made a little sound of disbelief. "Don't look at me like that…" Her mouth pressed into a frown, "Unlike you, I have no problem admitting when I've been an ass."

"First time for everything, 'spose." He lifted his hand, gesturing at the barkeep, who approached, paused at the sight of the teenager in his bar, and started to say something, only to be interrupted by the ghost with the most. "Get my babes here a daiquiri." He ordered shortly. "Virgin." He glanced sideways at the girl. "That's the kind of stuff you kids drink, right?"

"Sure Beej. But I didn't bring any money with me." She straightened, meeting the barman's eyes briefly, and giving him a brief smile. He didn't seem to know what to do with someone so blithely unconcerned about being out of place. "You gonna pay?"

"Might as well… Gonna own the whole damn bar by the time I'm done here, anyway." He poured another shot, but didn't drink this one right away, just sort of swishing the liquor around in the heavy glass.

"Since when do you have money to spend?" She demanded, with a light little laugh. It made him grin, entirely against his will. He'd always loved that laugh of hers… "Am I gonna see you on the news tonight? Did you hold up a bank, or just a liquor store?"

His features cracked in a further grin at her little inside reference, finally casting an amused glance her way. "Hey, I get things done." He chuckled, pausing long enough to flick his fingers at the guy, who still hadn't moved to get her drink. "Hey, you got a hearing problem? Virgin daiquiri, buddy!"

The barkeep's eyes went from one to the other, slowly. "Should I just trust that you're her father?" He asked coldly, clearly far more willing to disapprove over him making his moves on an under-aged girl. Looking _very_ underage, in her current shapeless outfit, and all of five feet tall. "Either way, she's got no business in here…"

"Ain't _your _business, bub…" Beetlejuice started to growl, only to be tamed by a light touch of the goth girl's hand, as she waved his frustrations away.

"Look," She said to the man behind the counter, "I'm not ordering anything with liquor, and this is pretty much Beej on his best behavior, so just get the damn drink, will you?" Her hard, endless gaze, seemed to capture him for a moment, before he turned away, muttering something under his breath, and went to get her drink.

"Anyway," She went on to Beetlejuice softly, "I shouldn't have tried to break your foot like that. Not unless you really deserved it. So… sorry."

"Heard you already, babes." He assured her, a bit appeased, with her anyway. _Still like to get my hands on that fucking royal…_ "Anyway, how the hell'd you get out of the house? Figured Babs as having you all tied up like a mummy, you being sick before…"

"Yeah… She's gonna kill me." Lydia agreed matter-of-factly, accepting her drink as it was handed to her, and utterly ignoring the bartender's disapproving glare. "But hey, we'll have more time to spend together." He laughed shortly, which in turn had the effect of making her smile. "I swear, Beej, one of these days, we're both gonna lose our hides this way."

He drew a cigarette out of his pocket with exaggerated smoothness. "Can't say I care either way, babes. Matter of fact, you wanna go get it out of the way now…"

"No smoking." The third party to their conversation interrupted, making Beetlejuice blink, consider him with a slow frown, then draw the cigarette back from his lips, and give him a truly dirty look. "You know the rules." Was all the other said, to that.

"It's that easy?" Lydia snickered, burying her lips in her icy drink, before he could comment on this. She just sat there, her shoulders shaking subtly, trying not to choke in her amusement. "Guess I know how to tame you… Good liquor will get you to agree to anything."

A slow grin spread across the poltergeist's face. He didn't mind being the butt of someone's joke, when that someone was Lyds. "Hell, it don't even take that, babes… This stuff's straight shit."

"Feel free to leave anytime." The bartender scowled, now apparently truly annoyed. As if questioning the quality of his drinks was just _that_ big a shit…

"Yeah… you want me to pay my tab, you let me finish my damn drinks." But the truth was, at this point Beetlejuice was barely acknowledging him with a glance. Instead he was studying Lydia, who, god help him, looked positively _cute _in her oversized sweats, like she was drowning in some big gray blanket. "So what the hell, you couldn't change before you came running after me?" He griped, trying to push this softer version of himself to the side. "I mean, damn, you wonder why I thought you were still twelve…"

"Well, I'm sorry I can't wear a slinky black nighty down to the local bar," She countered dryly, drawing just a little too much attention back to the two of them for his taste, "Or maybe you'd prefer me to go topless? No room for misconceptions _there_…"

"Smart ass." He grumbled, finally going for his drink, and trying not to let her see him smiling. "You're lucky it's also a hot ass, or I'd have to do something about that." He looked pointedly at their friendly eavesdropper as he said this, making no mistake that he didn't give a damn what anyone else thought about them. Hell, if Lyds asked him to lay one on her again, he'd jump at the chance, looker-on's be damned.

"Yeah right," Lydia rolled her eyes, "Because that's what's been stopping you all these years, Beej. My hot twelve-year-old ass." Beetlejuice choked, briefly, not having expected her to out-sass him. "What are you doing here anyway? I mean, if you don't like the drinks, why not just pick up something at the liquor store, work up your pissed-offed-ness, and come make snide comments about me being still hung up on Vincent?"

Beetlejuice narrowed his eyes at her, abruptly forgetting his drink. "Are you?" He grunted softly, as if this were perhaps the most important question he could ask. "I mean, you just come down here to tell me you got back together with the royal knee-biter? 'Cause I gotta tell you babes, you could do a hell of a lot better."

"I thought you were the one that said I was an idiot for breaking up with him in the first place?" She mused, pushing herself up to snatch a straw from behind the bar, and then sitting on her knees on the stool, bent over her drink. He wondered briefly if she had any idea how fucking hot that was, seeing her all bent over sweetly, sucking at her drink… Even in sweats. She caught him watching her, and raised an eyebrow, not lifting her head.

The most he could manage was a small sound of dismissal, turning to look at the bottle in his hand, like he suddenly had no idea why he was drinking it. Now, what the hell had she just said? Oh yeah. "Things change, babes." He screwed the cap on his drink, shoving both it, and the untouched bottle of scotch, into his pockets. "I mean, if you're in it for money, hell yeah, he's the guy to go for… But I can't see you wasting your life on a drip like him, because he makes you hot, or something."

"And the man proves he has a soul…" Lydia mused, narrowing her eyes at him. "Or whatever the hell passes for it, in a guy with the scruples of a randy jackal." Abruptly she flipped the subject on him, before he could retort. "What did Vincent mean?" She asked softly.

Beetlejuice just blinked, and managed the extremely intelligent reply of… "Huh?"

"I'd have never have guessed him being as strong as you… And okay, that's weird, but it doesn't explain what he was saying. About you and him sharing something. I think it had something to do with that power, but you kind of changed the subject, like you were avoiding a hot stove." A slow sweep of her legs around to the front again, her head tilted in the way she'd had when she was younger, making the inky strands of silk fall over one eye. "So what did he mean?"

Any humor he might have felt a moment before, left him quickly, and his lips drew into a tight, annoyed line, as he pointedly turned his attention to fishing around in his pocket for money to pay his tab. "Don't really want to talk about it, babes." He muttered, pulling out a wad of worse for wear fives, and dropping the grungy bills on the bar. "Change the subject, all right?"

Lydia considered him thoughtfully, then abruptly sat back, and gave a little stretch. "All right." She agreed easily.

The poltergeist just looked at her dubiously… She was gonna drop it just like that? Just because he'd asked? What the hell? Lydia saw his expression, and smirked. "Hell Beej, I figure you've got about six hundred years of shit you haven't told me… If you don't want to talk about it, fine. Whatever." Her eyes acquired a devious glint to them, as she added, "I'll find out sooner or later, anyway."

Beetlejuice just stared at her, dumbfounded, for upwards of a minute… Then started cackling so hard he almost fell off his stool. His green eyes gleamed from their sunken black pits, and every jagged tooth showed, as he bent at the waist, hands on his knees, laughing his ass off. "Babes, you are gonna be the second death of me, one way or another…" Lydia just grinned, as always, pleased to catch him off guard. "Tell you what, you toddle home, and give Babs a royal ass-kicking from me. I got some shit to do, and I'll meet you later."

Her smile vanished, slowly, and her gaze grew thoughtful. "Somehow I get the feeling you're about to ditch me, to go chasing skirts." She mused, swinging her legs around, and dropping to the floor. "Guess that's par for the course…"

"Just one skirt, babes." Beetlejuice corrected, making a face, which turned away from him, she didn't see. "Gotta settle up some shit, or it's gonna come back to bite me in the ass later." A pause, then honestly, "Probably will anyway." He cast a glance at her, to say something else, but found her pointedly turned away from him, head tipped back, fingers running through her careless mop of hair, and for a moment, just stared.

"Yeah, whatever." She interrupted his admiring. "You go chase your tail, Beej. Have fun." She waved at him absently over her shoulder, and left the bar before he could say another word about it. He was left more than a little baffled, wondering what the hell had turned her mood sour so fast.

Either which way, he needed to go break up with that chick… What was her name again? Stacy-something-or-other? Didn't really matter. He just didn't have time to waste on the broad anymore. Going after Lyds might be a lost cause, but hell… He'd realized in the last few minutes that it was a chance he had to take, or it was going to drive him crazy. It wasn't like he could think of anything else anymore, anyway.

He just hoped he didn't royally screw this up, because the last thing he wanted, was to lose Lyds… And if keeping her meant pulling out a few schemes from the old bag of tricks? _Hell. No problem there…_

_--------------------------------_


	6. Odd Moods

Beetlejuice doesn't belong to me. If you want to split hairs, I don't know exactly who he belongs to… Tim Burton, The Geffen Film Company, whoever wrote the myriad of scripts… (Probably not that last.) It's all legal techno-babble to me, and I don't know much about that stuff. I do know enough not to claim he's mine, or try to make money off him, or I'm screwed. Which sucks. I mean, who wouldn't want to make a living doing what they love? But I guess I should just be grateful I can do it at all… Where would I be, if I couldn't? …Probably doing it anyway, but if anyone asks, I'll deny it. You'll vouch for me, right?

Oh, and_I Am Ghost_, belongs to _I Am Ghost_, and so do their songs.

----------------

It's not a song-fic. Not really. It's just the closest I'll probably ever get to a song-fic. And yes, I did listen to _I Am Ghost's_ newest CD for pretty much the whole thing, but no, it doesn't tie in. I just like it. Goodness, almost a whole week since I posted? And I haven't been hunted down with the write-more blunt instruments of persuasion? Maybe I'm losing my touch... Heh.

-----------------

The house was cold when Olivia walked in, the way the haunted building only was when something was wrong in the snug little world of its resident ghosts. So she knew from its kiss against her skin that something wasn't right, long before the door swung shut, and revealed them huddled together on the couch, whispering in hushed tones.

Barbara looked up to see her, and relief rushed her face, still torn with some worry or fear, when in all fairness, nothing should frighten the dead. Hard music drifted from the floor above, as the ghost woman stood, and crossed the distance to her longest running human friend. "Something's wrong with Lydia." She said softly, not in the way of, '_oh my god, she's hurt_,' but still with enough concern to make the goth woman's stomach twist a little.

Olivia set down her purse, drawing her coat slowly from her back as she looked from one to the other. Adam's face was tense, and he kept looking off to the stairwell, like it was all he could do not to run up the stairs again, as he might have countless times before. It didn't explain why, if something was wrong with her daughter, the two were down here, rather than with her. "What's going on?" She asked softly, evenly. She wasn't panicking, not yet. Lydia didn't get in trouble like that anymore. It was a phase she'd grown out of, as far as Olivia knew.

Uneasily, Barbara brushed off her simple dress, trying to find the right words to explain her concern. "Lydia was sick when she woke up today," She said at last, carefully, "But it didn't seem bad. But then she got into some kind of argument with Vincent on the phone, and the next thing I know, she's running out of the house, and gone for hours, without a word. Then when she comes home, she locks herself in her room, and…" A pause here, before softly, "Adam and I can't get in."

Can't get in? Olivia's lips deepened in a frown, as she took cast a glance up the stairs, to her daughter's door. _Can't get in? _But they were _ghosts_… The only thing that should be able to stop them from getting in, was a stronger…

Panic briefly seized her heart, and her eyes, wide with alarm, spun to the two again. "He's not in there with her, is he?" She rasped, suddenly weak. It had been years since she'd thought of him. Years, since he'd threatened to make her daughter carry out the promise she'd broken. But he had gotten back into the living world before…

Both ghosts looked surprised, as if this simply hadn't occurred to them before, and yet there was no need for her to explain who she meant. "I don't know," Barbara admitted, reminding her softly, "We can't get in."

Olivia took no further time for explanation, but took the stairs two at a time, throwing open her daughter's door when she reached it. Lydia's immediate reaction was to throw the sketchbook closed that she'd been bent over, and turn angry, accusing eyes to the woman intruding on her privacy. "Doesn't anybody know how to knock?" She demanded coldly.

Her mother took a long moment to look around the room, carefully, for anything out of place… But there was no sign of the trouble-making poltergeist from her youth. Finally her eyes settled on Lydia again, her lips tightening into an unhappy expression, as she took in the morbid music vibrating angrily through the air, far too loudly, and the look of utter defiance on her daughter's face. "Why couldn't Barbara and Adam get in?" She asked the girl, still angry over her own temporary alarm. "They were worried sick about you?"

Lydia's fingers flared against the smooth, dark wood of her desk, but her mother thought she looked slightly surprised. "Don't know." She answered bluntly, in the sort of way that Olivia had no way to know if she was lying. "Look, I'm fine, just… leave me alone."

Olivia glanced at the old CD player, trying to place the violent, death-filled music. "What are you listening to?" She demanded, as if this were truly the reason she was angry, still looking for some way to vent.

"'_I Am Ghost's,'_ newest album." Lydia answered, just as bluntly. "I picked it up while I was in town. What, am I in trouble for listening to music now?" Her eyes flashing, she was looking for a fight, and both women there knew it.

Olivia didn't know what was wrong, but suspected it had something to do with the girl's long-time boyfriend, and the conversation Barbara had mentioned earlier. The ghost woman meanwhile, peeked in behind her, eyebrows twisted in worry… Especially as she found she still couldn't cross the doorway. "Lydia," Barbara prompted over the angry cries of music, "Did something happen with Vincent?"

Her eyes lit on the ghost woman, and briefly, softened, in a way they rarely did, when regarding her real mother. "We got in a little argument," She grumbled, turning back to her desk with an almost guilty frown, and putting her sketchbook in the top drawer, "It's no big deal."

_Young love,_ Olivia mused, trying to remind herself that her daughter was usually well behaved, _Is never, 'no big deal.'_ So the girl was throwing a tantrum, she'd probably just broken up with the guy she'd been dating for more than three years now. Every girl had the right to throw at least a little hissy fit when that happened.

"You want to talk about it?" Olivia prompted, wondering if she was really the right one to make that offer, when Barbara would surely be a hundred times more patient with the girl. She didn't really move any further into the room, expecting to be dismissed regardless…

And not disappointed. "Not really." Lydia ran her fingers through her hair with a sigh, clearly still sulking, and from her appearance, not certain herself why. "Look, I'm just… going out of my mind right now. I need to listen to loud music and brood, and I'll be fine." She glanced back at her. "But I can turn it down a little, if you want."

About to say that it was a little loud for her, Olivia took one look at the unhappy turn of her daughter's mouth, and reconsidered. How many times had she needed to listen to loud music, and brood, only never to be allowed by her father and Delia? "That's fine, Lydia." Was all she said instead, taking a step back. In an effort to show some continued concern for her daughter's well being, even though she knew damn well she should probably leave well enough alone, she added solicitously, "What were you drawing?"

Lydia looked up at her flatly, a spark of anger reappearing in her eye. "A nude self-portrait." She explained flatly, in a way that made no bones over being a blatant lie. "Did you want to see it?"

Olivia's mouth twisted in something between contempt and pity, and shook her head, retreating from the room completely. "I hope your cold feels better." Was all she said to that, before closing the door.

Great. She'd just gotten past the defiant spoiled brat stage, and now the girl was going full blown moody teenager on her. Thank god she only had the one…

-----------------

"You know babes, if you're drawing nude pictures of yourself, I'm gonna have to take a look at 'em." A voice intruded into her world, not at all unexpectedly, as Beetlejuice appeared a few feet to her right, grinning lecherously. "You know, make sure you got the details right, and all that."

"How would you know if I got the details right?" She grumbled, pulling the sketchbook back out of her drawer anyway, and tossing it in his direction.

He just cackled, waggling his eyebrows at her, and flipped it open to the most recent page… Only for his brows to then fly up in surprise. "Well hell babes, doesn't look much like you… But I gotta say, your model's damn sexy, just the same." His image must have graced the page half a dozen times, posed in various ways, looking unkempt, bedraggled, and oddly come-hither, with a sensual twist to his lips, and a beckoning to his eyes. "This really how I look, babes?"

When she didn't answer, he turned his gaze back to her, frowning, and brushing off his arms again, where an irritating tingle continued to build. Like he had pins and needles or something… But that was an affliction purely of the living. She looked irked about something, but he didn't really pay much mind, scratching his throat now. "What you hell, you got spectral fleas in here, or something?" He griped, casting an irritated glance around the room…

And pausing at the sight of the protection symbol looped hugely over the back of her door, matching the one currently on her cheek. He gave a little, strangled sound of irritation, and twisted his fingers, yanking her from her chair, and spinning her around to face the door. "Get that fucking thing off there!" He roared, suddenly angry with the girl, who more than likely, didn't know what the fuck she'd done.

Lydia cast a curious look at him, suddenly no longer upset herself, then shrugged, grabbed a dirty shirt from the corner, and spat on it, scrubbing away the eyeliner that had formed the nasty little ward. Even once it was completely disfigured though, and the antsy feeling had left him, Beetlejuice was still more than a little annoyed with the girl. "What the hell, you trying to exorcise a guy, or what? Popping in on you with that damn ward on your room…"

This surprised her, mildly, but didn't impress her for long. "It'd take more than that to finish you off." She muttered, falling back into her funk, though with him there, not quite as much a before. "_Ghost with the most_."

"Well, yeah…" He muttered, marginally appeased. "But still, what the fuck, babes? You tired of my company that fast?"

"I don't know… I was pissed. I wasn't thinking." Belatedly, she squirted some lotion onto the shirt, and starting scrubbing at the copy on her face as well. "Needed some time alone… No big deal. You're fine, aren't you?"

Beetlejuice considered the girl, who threw the wadded up, worse for the wear, shirt back into its corner, and plopped herself back at her desk, snatching her sketchbook back from his fingers. Who'd stuck a spider up her ass? She'd been fine when he'd left her, not two hours before… "You okay, kid?" He muttered, forgetting his uncomfortable brush with old magic. "You look like someone stole your favorite chocolate beetle dip."

A small pause, then, with an irritated grunt, "Don't call me 'kid.' I'm not a 'kid' anymore." She cast a short look at him, adding, "Right?"

"Sure, whatever." He hooked one ankle behind the other, considering her with a long, studying gaze. "Old habits die hard, babes." Of course she was a kid compared to him, her grandparents were kids compared to him… But hell if he was going to argue with her, when she was in a mood like this. "So what's got your panties in a twist, anyhow?"

Lydia just flipped open her sketchbook again, pointedly ignoring him, and started drawing again. What the fuck was with this girl's mood swings today? He scowled, and watched her draw out a new sketch of him, this time in the red suit he wore each year to attend the local Halloween parties… She paused every now and then to bite the pencil between her perfect little teeth, eye flashing, before returning to her drawing with a renewed vengeance.

"All right," He grumbled at last, resigned to taking the brunt of her bad humor, "So what'd I do now?" She glanced up at him, briefly, blankly. "Hell, kid- er, Lyds- You never get pissed at me unless I've pulled some really stupid shit, but this time, I swear to god I'm drawing a blank. Give me a hint, will you?"

The girl continued staring at him for a long, long time, then slowly took a deep breath in, shook her head, and splayed her fingers across her face, like she was hiding behind them. "Nothing." She denied softly, in a way that gave no indication she was lying, or even mad anymore at all. "Just, kind of in a bad mood. Didn't mean to take it out on you, but I've already taken it out on everybody else, so…" She cast him sort of a weak smile from behind her hand.

"You were fine at the bar." He grumbled, still relieved she wasn't pissed at him. "What the hell those folks of yours do to you?" He scratched the crusty stuff on his neck, pausing at the extended stare she was giving him, still from behind her fingers. He sneered at her, back in good humor. "You hiding, babes? 'Cause I gotta tell you… That's a shitty hiding spot."

Her lips turned up at the corners, just a little, and she sighed, her hand falling away obligingly. "So why are you in a good mood?" She demanded, just a little tolerantly amused. "You have fun with your new score?"

New score? Beetlejuice smirked, lidding his eyes at her. "Oh yeah babes, a blast. You want to hear the details?" He was further amused at her slight flinch, and deliberate turn from him. "Yeah, didn't think so." Damn bitch had thrown everything but the kitchen sink at him when he told her it was over, and that not from lack of trying. He should've known she was getting too fucking attached… Good thing he'd ended it when he had. Some broads were so fucking _clingy_…

"So I guess I won't be seeing much of you for a while." She mused softly, turning her attention back to her sketch. "You'll be too busy with your new ghoul…"

"Actually, you'll be seeing a lot of me." He denied matter-of-factly, trying to look as dignified as possible, which usually had the effect of making her laugh… Which was actually what he was aiming for. For once though, the goth girl didn't rise to the bait. That irritated him, but he went on anyway, as if he didn't care either way. "I told the needy little broad to take a hike."

Lydia paused, her pencil still on the paper. After a moment, she made a soft sound of acknowledgement, and resumed drawing. "I know you too well, Beej. The only way you'd do that, is if you already had a better offer. Either way, you'll still be making yourself scarce."

Beetlejuice frowned. What was with Lyds today? That time of month kind of thing? She'd never been this moody before. "You getting cramps, babes?" He asked bluntly, only to have the unplanned effect of making her laugh… But it wasn't her usual, light sort of laugh. It kind of made him want to look behind him for sandworms. "Then what the hell's with this moody shit? I broke up with the broad because I wanted to spend some time with you, for a while!"

This actually made Lydia stop, put down her pencil, and turn in her seat, giving him a long, even look. "I'm the better offer, Beej?" She asked softly, in the kind of way that made every alarm in his mind scream at him to deny this with every ounce of juice he had. Like it was just such a fucking impossible idea…

He just frowned at her, until she slowly relented, and got that soft, apologetic look on her face again. Like she knew she was being an ass, and wasn't certain herself why. She adjusted herself in her seat, until she was on her knees, hugging the back of the chair, considering him with a look he couldn't read, through the woodwork of the back. "Huh." She finally said at last, like a surrendering of distance. "Okay, I guess I'm the better offer, then."

If he'd had a heartbeat, it would have skipped, at the way this sounded to his ears. Hell, he'd love it if she was the better offer… But he doubted she meant it this way. Still, even being the better possibility was enough to win his interest for the time being.

"So turn off that damn howling shit, and let's go have some fun." He agreed, snapping his fingers, tempted to simply hurl the source of the loud music out the window, but simply shutting it off instead. "You and me'll go to the Shocking Maul, poke fun at all the shitty fashions the dead are wearing these days. It'll be a blast." He gave her a tooth-baring grin, hoping she didn't see through him, suddenly reluctant to make the move he'd been planning for the past two hours. That could wait until she was in a better mood…

"Huh." She said again, but this time she was smiling, her head tilted a little, her eyes soft with amusement. "That sounds kinda fun… But I think I'll get in trouble if I take off again, after this morning."

"Rules." He sniffed, adjusting his lapels with another effort at dignity, this time successfully making her laugh, "You know _I _hate them. Suit yourself babes… We'll just hang out here 'till you go stir crazy. That oughta be fun." He paused, then, unable to resist, he leered at her pervertedly, adding, "Or, you know, we could make our own fun…"

Lydia giggled, figuring he was joking, and he sighed inwardly. Of course, if he had been serious, that would have been a pretty unpleasant blow to the ego, but… "Your problem, babes," He informed her matter-of-factly, "Is you don't know a good thing when you see it."

Her giggles stopped, and she glanced at him sort of sideways, a pretty little smirk set on her own pale pink lips. "Don't I?" She teased, clearly back to her usual self, whatever the hell had been bugging her before. "Guess I won't know until I actually see something good, huh?" She flicked her fingers at him as he was about to protest, adding, "I mean, clearly I _don't_ know a good thing when I see it. I've only been hanging out with you for three years now, common sense be damned."

That, oddly, not only placated, but also amused him to no end. "Babes, you're a hell of a comedian." He informed her with a grunt, and a grin, grabbing her by the arm, and pulling the both of them to the floor. "You gonna listen to music Lyds, listen to something we can dance to, all right?" Another snap, and some swing stuff from the twenties poured out of her stereo, straight from the neitherworld.

She giggled, and offered no protest as he spun her around in a clumsy effort at a dance. It had been too long since he'd really had someone to dance with… Or even any interest in dancing. So there was a lot of stepping on each other's feet, until he gave up the floor completely, and proceeded to boogie through the air.

After about three dances, Lydia shoved him back with a laugh, delightfully out of breath, her chest heaving as she fell heavily to her mattress, eyes gleaming with life. "Beej," She informed him breathlessly, grinning, "If I gotta share you, at least I get the half of you that knows how to have fun."

He just smirked. Fun? She wanted to talk about _fun_? They hadn't even started having _fun_… "So you ready to go to the neitherworld, babes?" He taunted, tapping his knuckles against his chin with a twisted little sneer. "Or you really worried about getting in trouble _now_?"

"You are a terrible influence." She informed him amusedly, getting unsteadily to her feet, her pretty little chest still heaving from their dance. "All right, one hour at the Shocking Maul… One hour! And if I end up having to clean as a punishment, you are so going to help me!"

"Ah…" He made a sound like he was disappointed, tipping his head to the side a little, before sneering a challenge at her demands, and cackling under his breath… "B-words, babes. You know how this works."

Her eyes flashed, a sort of overwhelming surge of joy that he still wasn't used to, as she showed her teeth in her own version of Beetlejuice's feral smile. "Beetlejuice…" She whispered, barely loud enough to be heard, her eyes narrowed. "Beetlejuice…" She stood, and walked to within about a foot of him, reaching out and snagging his arm, and lifting her small frame to within about an inch of his face, as breathlessly, teasingly, she whispered, so enticingly… "Beetlejuice."

It was all he could do to hold onto her as they ripped through the separation between the living world and the neitherworld, his skin dancing with her heat, his mouth dry, and for the first time in all the time he'd been dead, feeling a serious need for air he couldn't claim…

-----------------

It was in fact, many hours before they returned to the living world together, and Lydia pretty much immediately fell out in bed, not even putting on pajamas… Or waiting for Beetlejuice to leave. He lifted himself up on her dresser, watching her with an amused little twist to his lips, eyes lidded with something almost like fondness, as he watched her.

He sat crossed legged, leaning back against the mirror, more tired than he cared to admit himself. It had been days since he'd slept… Not that the dead really needed to sleep, but like breathing, it was just something that was nice to do, from time to time.

The air still tasted a little of the damn ward she'd put up… He'd have to remind her not to do that again. It was night now, and dark, and he should probably be anywhere else, but for once, he wasn't in a hurry to leave. Lydia obviously didn't care if he stayed. With a twitch of his fingers, he pulled the sketchbook she'd left out back to him, a little amused at the stupid chance they'd taken, leaving it where it could be seen.

At his first few glances, he was more or less impressed by how well she'd captured him… As far as he knew, anyway. The mirrors on this side didn't work, and he hadn't paid much attention to the ones on the other side, in years. But his impressed amusement changed as he flipped through more pages, and found more drawings… All of him. Page after page of himself, with maybe every expression he'd ever offered her, in natural, lounging poses, or defiant stances, or indifferent dismissal.

In fact, to his gradual amazement, he realized that _every_ picture in the sketchbook was of him… Some dating back months, even to the beginning of the previous year. The girl was friggin _obsessed_ with drawing him! Not that there was anything wrong with that… He put his thumb to his lips, turning over the idea for the first time that maybe the kid had a crush on him, or something.

Sure. Right. And while he was at it, Juno wanted to jump his bones too. He snorted, pleased with the attention, only some of which was lost in the darkness, but not willing to fool himself. The kid thought he was some kind of game, one she had a blast playing, but wasn't about to take it any further than that. He sniffed, standing, and shoving the sketchbook back in her drawer, with a little sound. God knew why she was drawing him so much, but he probably couldn't turn it to his own best interest.

Her door took that moment to crack open, and he quickly went invisible, frowning in the direction of the arrow of light that pierced his Lyds darkness. It was that guy, Ed or something… _Just call him Chucky. Close enough._ He moved through the shadows, only stopped at his daughter's bed, and sat on its edge slowly, considering her in her sleep. A brush of his fingers, against the crown of her head, didn't even make her stir. The girl was tired.

He watched her sleep for a few minutes, which Beetlejuice marked as just creepy, regardless of the fact that it was the same thing he'd been doing before the guy came in. Then he got to his feet, walked around her bed to the nightstand on the other side, and picked up the slender CD case resting beside her stereo. Turning her lamp a little, so the light wouldn't shine on her, he flipped it on, and examined the cover… What he saw didn't seem to please him. But he said nothing, just putting it down, and shutting the light off again.

Ol' Chucky didn't head to the door right away, turning a long, slow glance around the room, making Beetlejuice's hair prickle on end when it swept over him lingeringly, as if somehow this man, who had so much of his daughter's gaze, could sense him the way she could. _Something_ certainly seemed to unsettle him, but for now, he kept it to himself.

When he finally did move to leave, he left the door cracked just a hair, and glanced over his shoulder one last time, his gaze landing squarely on the poltergeist, before it turned back to his daughter. "Lydia…" He murmured, like something was just really worrying him about the girl. In the next moment though, he was gone.

With a twitch of his hand, Beetlejuice closed the door more securely behind him, if only after he was a safe distance away. He was curious now, Liv was supposed to be the one with the heavy grasp on ghostly shit, but twice now, Lyds old man had looked right at him, like he knew he was there… Or at least, knew _something_ was there.

Beetlejuice drifted over to her nightstand, taking his own time, trying not to show to no one at all just how unsettled the encounter had left him. The case, as he picked it up, depicted a ghoul that looked just as much alive as dead, and a bit, in passing, like some broad he'd known centuries before. Not needing the light, he pulled the booklet out, squinting at it, more from a habit he'd picked up than a need, opened it to a random page, and started reading some of the words within.

_I found a place where they can never hurt you,_

_A place where every day is Halloween,_

_A lovely state of mind where we can run free…_

These words kind of surprised him, so he sat on the edge of her bed, not really thinking not to wake her, and continued peering through the book. Whoever had written it had a severe obsession with the dead, but the odd part was that with all the words he hadn't been able to make out before… Some of them described his relationship with Lyds pretty well, while others disturbed even him. He skimmed down a little more…

_I'm such a sucker for a pretty girl in black,_

_With skin so white…_

"Huh." He murmured softly, shaking his head, and putting the booklet back. He suddenly felt as if he'd intruded somewhere he didn't belong… And for him, that was saying something.

She moved beside him, and to his surprise, her hand reached out to grasp him firmly by the thigh. He looked down at her pale, delicate fingers for a moment, then grinned, and shook his head. "That's a hell of an id you got there, babes," He noted to her under his breath, "Freud would be proud."

Gently he removed her hand from his leg, only to have her open her eyes, fix them on him with a sort of puzzled look, and frown. "Um… It's not what it looks like, babes." He assured her hastily, only to follow this with a grin, adding, "But hell, say the word, it could be…"

Lydia snickered, which all in all was a more favorable reaction than she could have come up with, rolled over, and prompted went back to sleep, utterly unfazed by the poltergeist's presence on her bed.

He stared at her for a long, long moment, then, before he could question himself too far, stretched himself out on the mattress beside her, until they were lying together. When she didn't react to this, he reached his arm gently around her middle, drawing her back against him, until they were what could have been called spooning.

She shivered, just a little, and sighed, snuggling deeper into her blanket. "Beej, you're cold…" She complained in a murmur, making him lift his head, and stare at her in surprise. He was more surprised though, to find that despite her complaint, she wasn't really awake. Could she be dreaming about him? What the fuck?

"Hell of an id you got there, babes." He whispered again, drawing close enough to her that he could smell her hair, and even feel the silky strands against his chin. She just sighed in her sleep again, this time not commenting. Well shit, he'd wanted to sleep… He just had to make himself scarce before she actually woke up. Funny… He'd never have figured himself for being content to just sleep with a chick. Actually _sleep_.

But hell, this was _Lyds… _With her, all bets were off…

_----------------_


	7. Insight?

Beetlejuice doesn't belong to me. If you want to split hairs, I don't know exactly who he belongs to… Tim Burton, The Geffen Film Company, whoever wrote the myriad of scripts… (Probably not that last.) It's all legal techno-babble to me, and I don't know much about that stuff. I do know enough not to claim he's mine, or try to make money off him, or I'm screwed. Which sucks. I mean, who wouldn't want to make a living doing what they love? But I guess I should just be grateful I can do it at all… Where would I be, if I couldn't? …Probably doing it anyway, but if anyone asks, I'll deny it. You'll vouch for me, right?

----------------

This chapter might touch on a touchy issue... If I've done it right. However, if I've done it right, it also won't piss anyone off. Maybe. Though you should have someone to hate. And if I've done it right, it might answer a few questions, and even further the relationship between Beej and Lyds, as well as the overall plot.

But of course, being who I am, I'm terrified that I _haven't_ done it right... So now I'm going to go worry myself half to death while I wait to see what my reviewers think.

No pressure.

----------------

There was a moment, on waking with her alarm, when Lydia was bathed in a delicious, skin-tingling sense of cool, soothing her tired, sweaty form, and instinctively she reached for it, even before opening her eyes… But there was nothing there. She opened her eyes a little more, half expecting to see Beetlejuice, but there was no sign of the poltergeist… She was oddly enough, a little disappointed, though at the same time, she wasn't sure what she'd have done if she found out he'd spent the night in bed with her.

Running her fingers down her face, which like her body, was sticky with sweat, she spent a moment wishing for the cool sense she'd thought she felt, only a moment before… What the hell was the heat on, anyway?

Grumbling under her breath, she lurched out of bed awkwardly, moving first and foremost, to the window. A quick strain, a fluid sound of movement, and it lurched open, bathing her in the early morning breezes, kissing away the excess heat from her skin. "I'm gonna kill them," She muttered under her breath, letting the air in her room settle, while she looked for a clean uniform, "Either that, or I'm gonna skin Beej, and wear him as a reverse coat."

As in her childhood, she still managed to go through her uniforms far too quickly… She just wasn't a particularly neat person, said outfits quickly acquiring grass stains, food spills, and tears from ducking through closely knit branches. Usually in the neitherworld. Stitched, bleached, and otherwise mended, as many times as they could be, she was still down to her last three, hoping against hope that they would last her the rest of the year. She did not need another lecture from her parents…

Which was why as she came down the stirs, suitably dressed, into a tense and uneasy silence, she almost turned right back around before they saw her, and went back to bed. Damn, damn, damn… What the hell was wrong now? Were her parents mad because she'd gone out again, without leaving a note? It wasn't like she was grounded!

…at the moment…

She decided to preempt anything they said, with a complaint of her own. "Can someone turn down the heat?" She muttered, pretending to wake in a foul mood. "It's like an oven in here!" Adam twitched a little in his chair, lifted his fingers, and lowered them. She knew he'd turned the heat down. What she didn't know was what was with the heavy sense of dread.

"We were hoping the extra heat would help you sweat out your cold." Barbara explained, standing somewhat to the side, her hands folded on her pretty flower print dress. She looked like a ghost with something on her mind, but only a moment later, she lifted her head with a quiet, "Oh… I bet the pancakes are done." And disappeared.

Lydia approached the situation rather like a chemistry vial that she half expected to blow up in her face, carefully avoiding eye contact, and taking her seat without a glance at any of them… Especially her father, who seemed the most displeased. "Pancakes, huh?" She greeted Barb, as the ghost woman came out with three plates worth of the hot griddle cakes floating beside her. "Strawberry syrup?"

"Just maple." Barbara murmured apologetically. "Maybe you can pick up some strawberry syrup for tomorrow though. I don't mind making them again. If I'd known I was going to wake up hungry for them today-" She broke off as Edmond cleared his throat, pointedly looking at his plate, but frowning. This was apparently the signal for whatever family discussion was called for, to begin.

"Lydia," Her father began firmly, lifting those blue mirrors of her eyes to his daughter, "I'm worried about you." This in turn, was followed by a moment where he didn't say anything at all, the set to his mouth indicating that he was going over whatever lines he'd rehearsed beforehand. "It's this fascination of yours with death… I don't think it's healthy."

The girl stared at him, briefly, before turning to her mother, as if to question if her dad was actually serious. She'd been dressed in black since the day she'd come home from the hospital, and he was worried about her being goth_ now_? Her mother though, just frowned, and said nothing.

"Don't look at your mother," He denied, his voice resolving a little, "You and she are nothing alike, and you know it. Olivia may have a fascination with a darker based view of life than many people, and I love her for it, but you? The music you listen to is about death. The books you read are about death. The movies you watch are about death. The only two friends you have anymore, are both dead…"

At this, both Barbara and Adam looked like they were about to protest, but Edmond was not yet done. "Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against the Maitlands, this isn't really about them. I'm just, concerned that this obsession of yours isn't healthy."

Well, that was a weighted accusation… Lydia just frowned at him, and flatly denied it. "I'm not obsessed with death," She assured him evenly, "I'm just not afraid of it. I listen to music about life too, and read books about it, and watch movies about it. Does that mean I'm obsessed with life?" She shrugged, turning her fork into her pancakes. "I'm just not afraid of it. Why would I be? I've lived with life and death since I was born."

"And that worries me." Her father reiterated, not yet touching his own breakfast. When this didn't seem to reach her, he turned thoughtful, and considered his daughter with a searching, concerned gaze. "The living aren't meant to be this involved with death, this unafraid of it. A little fear can be a healthy thing… I'm afraid you may be romanticizing it. That you might think it's more than it is."

"I know exactly what it is." Lydia denied flatly, before she could stop herself. Once that was said, she figured she might as well dig herself in further… "And it's not like I'm in a rush to die, or anything. It's just-" A pause, as she felt Beetlejuice's presence, not in the room, but somewhere close. She was becoming more aware of him, as time went on… "I'm not romanticizing anything," She went on, when she realized her dad was still watching her, "It's just part of my life. Why are you getting on my case about this now?"

"Because you're changing," Edmond answered quietly, "You're not a kid anymore. These are going to be the hardest years of your life… And I don't want you thinking of death as a way out."

Lydia was pretty sure that this was the most utterly nonsensical thing her father had ever said. In fact, her first glance was to the Maitlands, with a slight, questioning lift to her eyebrow, as if silently asking them if he was really serious. Yeah, because death had really solved all _their_ problems… Her next seeking look was to her mother, who she knew damn well had just as much interest in death as she did, and would probably still jump, given the same chances she'd been given.

Which of course, no one there knew about. Imagine if they did… Lydia grimaced, she so did not have time for this. She had to eat breakfast, get her things together, and head to town for her extra curriculars. And they _knew_ it. They were just determined to make what should have been her day off, more of a pain than usual.

"While we're on the subject of death," She noted, with feigned absentness, well aware she was just digging her own damn grave, "I've volunteered for the day at that nursing home in town again… Grief counseling. The place is rife with ghosts, right on a lei point…"

As her father stared in dumbfoundment, she shoved as big a forkful of pancakes as she could, into her mouth, and continued talking through them. "The crazy thing is, no one knows it. So once again, I'm going to have Mrs. Stephen going on about her husband and sister's deaths, while they sit to the side, saying, 'no, that's not how it happened…'"

She swallowed the pancake down, grinning at him, and not giving him time to interrupt. "And you want to talk about an unhealthy obsession with death, you should talk to Mr. Silopopolis. He's eighty-seven years old, and talks about suicide daily. No matter how many times I try to convince the guy that it's just a bad idea. You know what happens to suicides in the afterlife?" She shook her head with a snort. "And then there's the _cats_…"

"Cats?" Her mother echoed, drawn helplessly into her daughter's web of fast talking. "At a nursing home?"

Lydia dismissed this with a short laugh. "Different rules for cats. One of the patients is this crazy old cat lady, she had eighty-seven of them in her lifetime, and all eighty-seven of the furry things still follow her around from place to place like little shadows. Which isn't so bad, except for when she starts talking to them, and the nurses make her take extra medication for her 'hallucinations.' Still remembers every one of them by name…"

Never once letting her barrage of conversation relent, she was already on her feet, having decided that the best way to beat this topic, was just not to let them get a word in edgewise. "But they're all pretty nice… Love having company, and talking about their lives. I'll probably keep visiting from time to time, when the project is over. I mean, old people count as living friends, right? The living ones, anyway… They're not dead _yet_…"

Realizing that this last might have been a stupid thing to say, she flashed them all a wide grin, grabbed her bag, and retreated as quickly as possible, leaving all four of her parents sitting there, staring dumbfoundedly at the place she'd been, just a minute before.

Adam cleared his throat at length, turning his gaze back to his pancakes, and noting off-handedly, "Well, she avoided _that_ like a pro."

"I really don't think she has a problem, Edmond." Barbara mused, not yet touching her own breakfast. "She's more full of life than anyone I've ever known… And we don't have to worry about her being suicidal, even if she wasn't. She _knows_ the consequences."

"She _knows_ too much." Edmond agreed quietly, pushing his own plate back with a frown. "That isn't the way it's supposed to work. She's supposed to be focused on living, as long as she can." A small pause. "Something in her has changed, these last few years. I can't put my finger on it… But it worries me. She's not the same girl she used to be."

"No," Olivia agreed softly, finally speaking up, "She's not. She used to get in trouble at every turn, pick fights, stay out all night, talk back, and disappear to who only knows where. Now she's getting almost all A's, volunteers at the local nursing home, actually talks like she gives a damn about someone other than herself, and hasn't been in trouble in years." She lifted her gaze, something in them that made even her strong-eyed husband falter. "I've gone along with this as well as I can, Edmond. But I _don't _see a problem."

With this she stood, her own meal equally untouched, and turned her gaze away from him, adding, "And I'll pretend you didn't include my best friends, in that list of symptoms of what's gone wrong with our daughter." She added, with her first trace of coldness towards the man she'd been in love with since high school. "Because I swear to god, you do not want to ask me to cut them out of our lives."

And with that she left all of them, the three falling into an uncomfortable silence at her withdraw. None more uneasy over the exchange, or the absence that followed, than her husband, who'd never been the object of her frustration before… And then, without a word, Barbara and Adam pushed their meals back, stood, and left as well.

Leaving him alone.

----------------

Lydia stood outside the front door, having closed her problems inside, but not yet ready to move on from her father's disturbing concerns. Both hands were woven through her careless hair, pressed tight to her scalp, her head bowed as she stared intently at her feet, not certain herself why she felt the aching heat in her gut still linger, like some kind of anger.

He was wrong of course. She didn't worship death, didn't romanticize it, didn't idolize it… But there were times when she preferred it. The world of the dead, the people she knew there, the friends she'd made. In her whole life, only two living people had ever wanted to be friends with her, and they were all but gone now, having both graduated the year before. But in the world of the dead… She could be as strange as she wanted, and no one thought twice about it. She had lots of friends. She'd kind of even had her first love. And her best friend? Her best friend was about as dead as they came.

Her father was wrong… But that wasn't why she was angry with him. She was angry because back there, hearing those words from the man whose eyes stared back at her from the mirror every day, she realized suddenly that things would never be the way they'd been before he'd said them. He was afraid of death. It scared him, and he pushed it away, and he… He couldn't understand. He didn't want to. And he didn't want her to either. Those eyes that could see so deeply, wouldn't, if he could stop them.

_We aren't the same._ It was like a blow to her chest, so she stood there, her head bowed, trying to understand a father who finally admitted to fearing everything she loved. Who spoke of her oldest friends like they were some kind of contagion. And having seen this part of him, suddenly remembering a hundred times through the years, when he'd dismissed the two, pushed their concerns aside, or excluded them in little ways from the family he'd helped to build. And she knew she'd never look at him the same way again.

A soft sound of grief escaped her, and she shook her head, suddenly deeply ashamed of him, as if she'd just learned he was a bigot… Which it now seemed he was. And how stupid, stupid, _stupid_… Everyone died! _He'd _die one day! It was part of being _alive_…

How could she face him again? Knowing how he felt about people she loved?

She brushed the back of her hand along her eyes, though no tears had really formed, and straightened up slowly, to see Beetlejuice standing before her with a little frown, brow wrinkled up in concern. "You might be being too hard on the guy," He noted grudgingly, as if the last thing he wanted, was to be defending her father, "Lots of breathers don't like the dead. I mean, hell, there's a reason they don't see us, babes. It's not because they can't, it's because they don't want to. Your old man's no different."

Lydia's eyes turned cold, and his frown deepened, as he didn't look away. "Hate is hate." She whispered. "Fear is fear. How dare he hate the people I love? How dare he want me to be afraid of them too? Don't you _dare_ defend him."

The poltergeist looked a little taken aback, cast a guarded glance over her shoulder, and grunted, deciding wisely not to argue with her when she was in this kind of mood. Which she seemed to be in more often lately. "Better get out of here, before we give ol' Chucky a _real_ reason to blow a gasket." He noted pragmatically, putting a hand on the small of her back, and leading her away from the house. "Or it's gonna get real nasty."

"He says one word about you, and I'm putting a hex on him." She grumbled, still obligingly leaving the building behind, and walking with him down the long drive. It made him smile smugly, at the thought of the girl coming to his defense that way… Hell, he couldn't remember the last time someone had come to his defense. Figured Lyds would have no problem with it… "I'll turn him into a beetle." She finished vehemently.

"Bad idea, babes." He cackled, giving her a solid pat on the small of her back, before reluctantly drawing away. "I'm kinda hungry right now… Didn't get one of those pancake breakfasts of yours."

Lydia stopped in mid-step, tipped her head back, and groaned. "Damn it." She cursed softly. "I forgot the fucking macaroni salad." And like that she left him there, going back in the house. Macaroni salad? He followed her with a frown, going as invisible as he could, though he no longer really trusted that to hide him from her father's gaze.

He was still sitting at the table, alone now, and no matter how civilly they'd parted, Lydia made no attempt to even glance at him now, moving past silently into the kitchen, as Beetlejuice regarded the man with a scornful look. Guy like that didn't deserve Lyds as a daughter… For that matter, he didn't even deserve a morbidly hot, if back-stabbing, number like her mother. He wondered idly when the last time was, he'd thought of Olivia that way… Or the last time he'd thought of her at all, as anything but Lydia's old lady.

The fact was, there were those in the neitherworld just as prejudiced against the living, as there were living, prejudiced against the dead. And it made just about as much sense. But Lydia knew that, and it had never really ruffled her feathers before… But this was her old man, and Lyds took all that family shit pretty seriously.

_You fucked up, bud_, he thought at the man disdainfully, a lot less tolerant of the guy than he let on, only to turn his back again as Lydia reappeared, plastic-ware in hand, and follow her out the door.

They didn't say another word about it as they walked along the long stretch of road, neither one of them. Beetlejuice was content to let it lie, it only really pissed him off because it hurt Lydia, and he couldn't stomach her being upset like that, without shit he could do to make her smile, and forget.

But hell, he had to try. "Old folks, huh?" He grunted, tipping his face back, to squint at the bright, sunny sky. "You tell them what's waiting once they kick the bucket? Might be fun, seeing the look on their face, when they realize they gotta hang around that dump another hundred and twenty five years." He sneered at the living in general, though never Lydia, and glanced at her sideways, adding, "Hell, how many ghosts they got packed in there now? Are the living fucking idiots, putting all their old in one place like that?"

"Just lazy." Lydia mused, still brooding. "And backstabbing. The young hate being reminded of their mortality, I guess. Never mind that they're family… Just lock them away, and forget for a while. Until _they_ get locked away. Guess some need the help… But most are just kinda shoved aside, and…" At this point she fell silent, and Beetlejuice, not having drawn her out of her funk, just about gave up and joined her in it.

"So you go to school all week, then you go do some volunteer shit on the weekend." He gave her a little frown, completely serious, which helped get the right mood across, as he added, "I ain't having shit for influence on you, am I?"

This, finally, made her grin, and turn to him with those dancing eyes of hers, filled with the life he couldn't have. "Trust me," She giggled, unable to resist rising to the bait, "You have plenty of influence on me. None of it good." Then, surprising him, she moved closer to his side, and slid her hand into his, giving it a little squeeze, as she sighed. "Beej, I swear… You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

About to say something smart-ass, he was left speechless by this little admission, staring at her with something of a stupefied look. Hell. Forget coming to his defense, he was damn sure no one had ever considered knowing him to be a good thing, much less the best thing that ever happened to them. And then of course, he became aware of her small, warm hand in his, like she was holding onto him for dear life… "Huh." Was all he was able to say, looking at her oddly, and this barely above a grunt.

He wanted to say something funny. God knew he could always make her laugh. Even wanted to say something perverted, to make her roll her eyes, and tell him off. But for the death of him, he couldn't think of a damn thing to say after something like that… except…

About to tell her that she was the best thing that'd ever happened to him too, he was cut off as she glanced up at him suddenly, noting, "This is gonna sound weird, but I could have sworn you were spooning me when I woke up this morning."

Beetlejuice felt like he'd been hit, rather solidly, in the face. Plastering a shit-eating smile to his lips, he snorted, and did his best to look disdainful. "Yeah, babes. That'd be a good idea. You probably got holy water stashed somewhere in your room, just in case I try some shit like that. Yeah, and after that, I went and poked Juno with a stick for a while, to give her a reason to kick me ball-less too."

The goth girl, obligingly, rolled her eyes, and made a sound of amusement. "Ass." She muttered, in that tone of voice that meant what she really wanted to say was, _idiot_. "Well hell, you might have ended up ball-less, but at least I wouldn't have sweated my ass off all night. Next time I might tie you down, and _make _you lay with me."

A little amused to hear what sounded suspiciously like flirting coming out of Lydia's mouth, he smirked, and waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. "Well hell babes, if that's the kind of shit you're into…" He stepped in front of her and put his wrists together, holding them obediently in front of her, like he was waiting to be cuffed, licking his top lip with a cackle, as he waited.

"Oh god…" Lydia took a step back, looking briefly horrified, and dousing any sign of a smile on his face.

She couldn't maintain it though, and ended up laughing so hard that in a matter of seconds, she was actually on her ass in the road, bent over her knees, wheezing. He tilted his head, a bit annoyed, and even more relieved, as she continued to cackle like a madman, until tears came to her eyes. "I- I'll make you a deal, Beej," She managed through her giggles, lifting her dark, pretty eyes to him, "If I ever want to tie anyone up, and have my wicked way with them, I'll make sure it's you, okay?"

Well, hell… A slow grin crossed his face, as he slowly squatted in front of her, jutting out one hand. "Wanna make that little promise official?" He murmured throatily, positively dripping sleaze.

He really didn't expect Lydia to reach out, take his hand, and shake it. Not after last time. But she did, without hesitation, and she was grinning all the while, and even used his grip to pull herself back to her feet, swaying a little as she regained her balance. "Damn Beej, I needed a laugh." She murmured, lidding her eyes as she gazed off the way they were going, still smiling. "Now maybe I can have a good day anyway, even if my father did suddenly decide to tell me he's a prick."

"Hell, babes. That's why I'm here." He slung an arm around her shoulder, tugging her into his side, and she just went along with it good-naturedly, not even drawing away once they actually reached the little town, and started getting stares. Beetlejuice of course, stared right back, grinning like the cat with the canary. Damn if he knew what he'd done right, but he hoped he could do it again. Maybe soon. Maybe when she was wearing that slinky black thing again…

He realized that Lydia was looking at him from the corner of her eye, a sort of cat that ate the canary twist to her lips too. "You're going with me to hang out with the old people?" She prompted, a little dryly. "Figuring on maybe drumming up a little bioexorcist business _before_ they do their crossing? Make sure they know how it works?" None of which smart remarks explained why she looked so damn happy about the idea…

Beetlejuice flipped her off, carelessly, and she grunted in response, actually briefly leaning into his side for a moment, before she drew back away. Like some kind of full body head butt. "Just don't kill anyone." She warned, not objecting when Beetlejuice, his arm still around her shoulders, allowed himself a possessive little squeeze in return. "If I don't get this credit, there's no way I'm getting that scholarship…" She still though, he noted, didn't draw away.

And the ghost with the most didn't miss a beat, just leering in her direction, and prompting smoothly, "So, what college we going to anyway, babes?"

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	8. A Long Day

Beetlejuice doesn't belong to me. If you want to split hairs, I don't know exactly who he belongs to… Tim Burton, The Geffen Film Company, whoever wrote the myriad of scripts… (Probably not that last.) It's all legal techno-babble to me, and I don't know much about that stuff. I do know enough not to claim he's mine, or try to make money off him, or I'm screwed. Which sucks. I mean, who wouldn't want to make a living doing what they love? But I guess I should just be grateful I can do it at all… Where would I be, if I couldn't? …Probably doing it anyway, but if anyone asks, I'll deny it. You'll vouch for me, right?

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It's making me sad, getting so few reviews. Only two last chapter, though I am certainly grateful for those. :) I wrote this for all of you anyway, instead of waiting, I hope it turned out well. It certainly turned out long. Heh. Happy New Year's Eve. My next post won't be until 2009, I guess. I suppose I could go on now with my insecurities about my writing, but I'm sure this chapter will look better to me in a week or so. Pretty sure. Maybe. Hmm… Maybe I just need some sleep. Heh.

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"God-damn-it-fucking-cats!" Beetlejuice muttered under his breath, pausing to throw a grey and white ball of fur off his lap, much to the amusement of the residents, and the disapproval of the nurses, who thought he shouldn't be humoring the seniors that way. Lydia just giggled, throwing down her hand, and drawing a disapproving look from said poltergeist. "That's really what you been betting on, Lyds? Two pair? Haven't I taught you anything?"

"You taught me that you twist your ring whenever you have a bad hand." She responded easily, winking at a middle-aged lady with a bouffant of blue hair, who'd been shamelessly flirting with the poltergeist all night. "So go on, let's see it, Beej. What's that pile of junk in front of you worth?"

The ghost with the most narrowed his eyes at her, cast a glance at his heavy brass ring, and grunted, throwing down a pair of twos, and a pair of threes. "You're a bitch, you know that, babes?" He muttered, slicking his hand through his wiry hair in annoyance. "That's some of my best shit you just stole from me…"

Lydia just smiled sweetly, sweeping up the odd pile of odds and ends into her hands. "All's fair in love, war, and the junk we find in the bottom of our pockets." She noted airily, already sorting through her winnings to see if there was anything worth keeping. A blue egg shell, keep that, two more pieces of snake-skin, one almost intact, the key from a piano, a key to god knew what, and a gleaming mother-of-pearl button. He might bet junk, but he bet _interesting_ junk.

"You two make the best couple!" An elderly fellow to the side noted, though with the grin he was offering, it was hard to tell if he was serious. "If you're gonna rob the cradle, might as well get a good one, right?"

Beetlejuice gave him a look that, if Lydia read correctly, was debating whether to agree with the man, or send him to sandworm land. "Babes is the best of them," He agreed at last, cracking a rather nasty leer, as he glanced in her direction with amusement, "But if you really want to get specific, she's a lot closer to robbing the grave, than I am to robbing the cradle."

With a sound of indignation, Lydia threw one of her prizes, a twisted brass door latch, at his head, only to have the ghost catch it, and slide it with a sneer back into his pocket, as if that meant she'd given up all rights to keep it. Her annoyance though, was genuine, even if it was all she could do to keep from laughing. "Like I didn't hear enough of that when I was dating Vincent…" She muttered, trying to look scathing, and utterly failing.

"You were too good for old Prince Vince…" Beetlejuice muttered, looking like he was annoyed to even have the other man's name brought up. "Guy thinks just 'cause he's royalty, he can have anything he wants…"

Lydia blinked, then slowly smiled, a glint of mischief in her eye. "Are you jealous, Beej?" She teased, showing a fair amount of tooth with this challenge, only to have him bare all of his in a malicious smile right back. "You _are_… Need I remind you, you were the one off all the time, chasing anything with a pulse? Or without, for that matter?"

"Babes," A look of feigned indignation crossed his face, "What the hell was I supposed to do, wait 'til you were old enough to jump? Like that wouldn't have been creepy…" He licked his hand, picked the cards back up, and started shuffling again, even though it was almost time for them to go. "One more hand, Lyds?"

"Like creepy ever stopped you…" She muttered, for some reason, suddenly losing her amusement in their little exchange. He gave her an odd little look, lifting one eyebrow. She could almost see him wondering if she was about to go off in some weird hormone-driven teenage tantrum again… Not that he said a word either way. She settled for sticking her tongue out at him, and crossing her arms in annoyance.

A surprisingly soft laugh fell from him. "Now who's jealous, babes?" He cackled gently, making her glance at him in surprise, and go into a slow blush, as she realized that this must be exactly what it looked like…

"You wish." She muttered, as he slid the cards back into his bottomless pockets.

"Nah," He smirked easily, giving her his most confident look, "I can wait." Lydia wished briefly that she had something else to throw at him…

"Well," The blue-haired lady noted, standing with a sort of exaggerated grace, and stretching, "There's something to be said for either one, isn't there? Robbing the cradle, or the grave." She knocked the back of her hand against the head of the gentleman who'd made that comment, her hand passing right through him, as she added, "Just wait until you get on this side, ladies' man. I'll teach you some of the benefits of an experienced lover."

Beetlejuice cackled, waggling his eyebrows at her, while she paused to blow him a kiss, before ghosting through the wall into the east side of the hospital, which always seemed to be undergoing mysterious 'repairs.' By this point, none of the living patients looked at him even remotely strangely, having all decided by this point that they were far more in possession of their abilities than he.

Lydia just smiled, burrowing her fingers through the thick fur of a large marmalade tom, before lifting him in her arms, and setting him gently back on his person's lap. There were cats everywhere. The one 'crazy cat lady,' in particular, had the most… But in truth, there were hundreds of the things filling the nursing home, draping every available lap, every available surface, and casting their subtle chill over everything in sight. Oddly enough though, there were no other pets in sight… Most notably no dogs.

_I wonder what happens to them after this?_ She mused, smoothing her hands slowly along a stiffness that had formed in her lower back. _The neitherworld would be buried in their furry little spirits, if they all went there, when their haunting was done…_ She made a point of asking Beetlejuice about it at some point, but for now, reclaimed her plastic ware of macaroni salad from the mini fridge, and lifted an eyebrow at him questioningly. "So, you coming?"

"Hmm?" The poltergeist, having been deep in suspicious whispering with a rather frail looking thing in a wheelchair, lifted his head, his lips drawn up thoughtfully. "We going somewhere?"

She hefted the plastic-ware with a grin. "Sunday picnic, Beej. Prudence and Bertha are waiting for us. Well, me." She amended, after a brief pause, "But it wouldn't be the first time you've crashed. So what, you coming?"

Shrugging, he concluded whatever business he had with the woman of frail form, and steely eyes, making her smile in a decidedly unpleasant way, before straightening, and adjusting his lapels. "Now I can't say it hasn't been a gas," He greeted them all, in his best car salesman way, positively oozing his particular sort of business charm, "But it looks like babes here had wrangled me an invitation to a luncheon with three broads at once… And they even got pulses! Go figure."

Lydia rolled her eyes as he strolled from the room without a further word, taking more time herself to say goodbye to everyone by name. When she did leave, none too soon from the looks on the nurses' faces, she found him leaning beside the door, already puffing away, like he'd been going through such severe withdraw, not being able to smoke for three hours. She grinned at him, curious. "What was that about?" She demanded, giving him a little shove. "You and Mrs. Parker back there…"

Beetlejuice cackled under his breath, already putting it out. "Like you said babes, just making sure she knows how it works ahead of time. Figure that broad's gonna be the first to go in the place, and if she wants to do a little business… Hell, a guy's gotta have booze money, you know?"

"Hmm. Harmless enough, I guess. Try not to kill _everybody _though… The place is already bulging at the seams." She shielded her gaze from the sun, which was unseasonably bright.

"They're fun old birds." He agreed, though that hadn't been what she'd been saying at all. "Not like some of the prudes in this town. I gotta tell you, getting laid in 'Frigid River,' is harder than learning sandworm… And I still ain't figured out how to do that!" This said though, and having sighed after it, he paused suddenly, and gave her an odd, thoughtful little look. "Course, 'spose it's all where you look…"

"Yeah… You'd have better luck with Juno." Lydia replied dryly, well aware what he was insinuating, and just taking it in stride.

Beetlejuice's face turned a little green, well, greener than usual, and he made a small, gagging sound. "Fuck Lyds, you actually made me picture it! What the hell? You trying to make me puke? Ugh…" He rubbed his forehead, grimacing. "I need liquor, _now_!"

"That's the ticket, Beej," Lydia smirked, "Keep drinking until she looks good…"

"There ain't that much whiskey in the _world_, babes…" He muttered, still looking a trifle sick. "You try picturing it."

She did, completely against her will, and immediately wished she hadn't. "That's it," She muttered, trying to banish the image now burned behind her eyes, "You're not getting any macaroni." At first he just snorted at this…

Then paused, and looked at her with a devious glint to his eye. "You just picturing me in the buff, babes?" He prompted silkily, arching one brow.

Lydia stopped stock-still, her face turning brilliantly red as, again against her will, she did just this. Her mouth opened, searching for something to say, but all that emerged was an extremely intelligent sounding gurgle. Finally her eyes closed, and her head fell forward, her cheeks burning. "I hate you." She muttered under her breath, just making him cackle softly, lay a guiding hand in the small of her back, and press her forward.

At his touch, she just felt warmer, as again her mind turned that way, this time not entirely unwillingly, and her stomach gave a little flip. Damn it, he was probably covered with mold everywhere, and he had that little beer-belly of a stomach, and… Erg, he couldn't possibly be appealing… And _why_ was she thinking about her best friend _naked_?

She pinched the bridge of her nose, lifted her head, and considered the poltergeist. He looked awful of course. Not that everyone could see him in the detail she could… But his hair was a mess, his eyes were sunken pits, and he was paler than even the dead had a right to be… And he glanced at her, saw her watching him, and looked amused. He winked, and slid his arm further around her waist, until he was holding her possessively against his side, and gave her a little squeeze, which for no reason she could see, made her knees weak.

God, he was _strong_… She forgot that from time to time. _Oh god, oh god, oh god…_ What the hell was she thinking? For the past two days she'd been on his case like his philandering ways were suddenly something personal to her, and she didn't know why… Now her head was in a spin, her stomach felt sick and fluttery, and she swore she'd swallowed her heart. What the _hell_ was her body doing to her?

She shrugged him off, suddenly angry, and he looked at her in puzzlement, but didn't press it, as if simply used to taking her bizarre mood-swings in stride. Was she really that bad, that he didn't even find it strange? _Why _did he hang out with her? Why did-?

Oh god, why did she let him _kiss _her…?

"Lydia!" The goth girl blinked, lifted her head, and was utterly unable to make sense of the form coming at her, cheeks stretched wide in a grin, dark blue eyes filled with humor, waving with as much enthusiasm as she had as a kid. "Cool, you brought Mr. Beetleman!" She came to a short stop before them, paper bag clutched in a death grip in her hand, clothes in disarray. "I haven't seen you in like, forever!"

Beetlejuice was staring at the girl with a bemused expression, as if he couldn't quite place her. In the past couple of years, Bertha had _blossomed_… No longer gangly, she was elegantly graceful in every movement, and even if she still had big teeth and an awkward grin, she also had thick brown hair that framed delicate features, dazzling blue eyes, and a natural hourglass figure that a lot of girls would have killed for. As for her teeth… They really just made her grin more approachable.

And at the moment, she was grinning at Beetlejuice, who seemed to be musing on the positive effects that time could have on nerdy girls. She didn't remember the last time the two had seen each other… It had to have been at least a year. And a year could change a lot. "You grew up good, kid." He mused, eyes lit with interest that made Lydia want to hit him.

But Bertha just laughed, looked awkward in that way of someone not yet used to receiving compliments, and gestured to the picnic table they frequented once a month or so… All the time Lydia could usually get with her living friends anymore. The last time she'd seen them together, was when they'd stopped by to visit her the week before at her request, really just long enough to talk about…

Oh. Vincent. Great, no question _that_ would be brought up then… Lydia bit her knuckle, gave Beetlejuice a sour look, utterly lost on him as he admired her friend, and resigned herself to a 'fun day,' that she hoped to get over as quickly as possible.

"So," Beetlejuice prompted, before she could dwell on this for too long, "How come I never see you walk Lyds to school anymore? You hanging with a new crowd these days, doll?" Doll. She was certain Beetlejuice had never called the girl 'doll' before.

"Of course!" Bertha laughed, not reading any mean-spiritedness into it. "I'm hanging out with the community college crowd! I graduated last year, Mr. Beetleman… Didn't you notice?"

"Please." Lydia interjected, before he could come up with some smooth answer to this. "He only recently noticed that I'm not twelve anymore." The words were of course, out of her mouth before she remembered just _how_ he'd finally noticed that… And from Beetlejuice's leer, he was remembering too.

Bertha though, didn't seem to notice, just saying, "Well, you do kinda still look like you're twelve, Lydia…" And then freezing, eyes going wide as she heard her own words, and clearly decided they didn't sound nearly as good out loud. "I mean," She hurried on, "You're so _small_… You're even shorter than Prudence these days… And…"

Lydia was spared any more explanation, as a red muscle car roared up to the park, smoke practically floating up from the tires as it screeched to a standstill. Lydia was just as grateful for the interruption as her friend…

"Whoa," Beej muttered, looking mildly impressed, "That is one badass car!" A pause then, in what was clearly a lie, "Course, it's nothing compared to _my_ wheels, babes…"

"Yeah." She agreed dryly. "That's also the reason I don't let Prudence drive me to school, even though she's offered." Beetlejuice looked from her to the car, dumb-founded, as the driver's door swung open, and a lanky pixie with long red hair popped out, horn-rimmed glasses balanced delicately on her tiny nose, wide lipid eyes gazing out thoughtfully at the world.

"Lydia." Prudence mumbled, still as soft-spoken as ever, whatever her manner behind the wheel. "You brought Mr. Beetleman? But I thought it was just gonna be us girls…" She'd just never been as comfortable around the obnoxious poltergeist as the easy-going Bertha, but at the moment, that was really the least of Lydia's concerns… Because Pru was totally rocking the sexy librarian look, and like with Bertha, Beej had noticed.

It was really about all Lydia could take. "Stare any harder, and she's gonna burst into flames." She growled, turning her back on him, and heading to the table, determined to be the first one to sit down. Then let the lecherous poltergeist decide whether to sit next to her or not… It wasn't like _she_ cared…

When she lifted her head again, Beetlejuice was looking at _her_ now, his lips twisted into an expression of decided amusement. Without waiting for either of the others, he strode over, all nonchalantly, and sat himself next to her, leaving the other side of the table for her old friends… It would have actually been a nice gesture on his part, if he didn't look so damn full of himself for pissing her off. He just couldn't stop grinning…

Suddenly less annoyed with him regardless, she kicked him lightly in the leg, making him cackle, as she dropped her dish on the warped wood. "Okay… Pru, you brought the plates?" She prompted, which made the red-haired girl turn around, still looking uncomfortable, and pull a good sized picnic basket out of the back seat.

"I only brought enough for the three of us…" She murmured, in a way that could have been either apologetic, or accusing. But she didn't seem to be too upset. It was a little hard to read.

"No sweat," Beetlejuice was rolling up his sleeves, seeming to have simply not noticed that he was any less than welcome, and fixed a hungry eye on the food they'd brought out so far, "I'll just grub outta whatever you brought, once the rest of you get your share… That _Babs's _macaroni, babes?"

"Babs?" Prudence echoed, blinking owlishly in confusion.

"Er, yeah." Beetlejuice glanced at her sideways, but if the girl was waiting for him to elaborate more… Well, he clearly didn't plan to. "Stuff used to taste like shit, but I've got kind of a taste for it now." He added to Lydia, in a stage whisper, "Don't tell the broad I said so…"

"I won't." She murmured, more than a little appeased by the unexpected compliment. "Especially since I'm the one that made it. I've always been the one that made it. And I appreciate you never telling me you thought it tasted like crap before, or I probably would have stopped a long time ago. It's got three kinds of cheese." She added solicitously, when he didn't seem to know how to answer this.

In fact, he didn't… He just couldn't see Lydia playing happy little homemaker, like the Maitland broad did. But of course, that was the least of his surprises for the day. So far, his favorite was seeing Lyds get all blushing and jealous over him… Maybe the girl did have a crush. It was a little hard to believe, but… He could _so _easily twist that to exactly what he wanted, that it made him feel positively light in the head! At the same time though, there was that voice again, the one that just wouldn't fucking let him have his way…

_Yeah, yeah, I know. That's Lyds. She deserves better than that_. He pushed the thought away for now, and just watched impatiently as the food was divvied up, and three similar plastic containers were left in front of him. The grub looked pretty good… He went for the macaroni first, figuring it might score him some points with Lyds. But if she noticed, she didn't say anything either way.

He'd never had much of a taste for living world food, but over the past few years, it had kinda grown on him a bit. Sort of an acquired taste. But at the moment, he was too distracted waiting to see what would happen next, and how he could use it, to even taste one of the cheeses, much less all three.

"You know, Lydia, I heard a rumor in town." Prudence suddenly noted, a little more boldly than he remembered, though just as softly-spoken, peering in a knowing way through her glasses. "You know that boy you went out with? I heard that some older man blew his car up, and beat him up pretty good." Lydia choked briefly on her food, and he eyed her, as she recovered. "I _heard _that it was over you."

"That… _asshole_…" Lydia said slowly, once she could breathe, choosing her words as she went, "Was an _asshole_. He forced me to kiss him, _felt _me up, threw my ring in the goddamn lake he dragged me to, _after _saying we were going to the movies… _Hit_ me…" At this, Beetlejuice's jaw tightened, and his hands clenched into fists on the table, neither of which he noted, though he seemed to be the only one… "And if all he got was a black eye and a trashed car, he got off too easy."

Bertha was considering him, a fact which he noticed only belatedly, turning his angry gaze to her with a growl. "What're you looking at?" He demanded, already considering when he might have a chance to pay the creep another visit. He'd _hit_ her? Oh, _hell_ no!

But all she did was sit back a little, look approving and wise, and note matter-of-factly, "Mr. Beetleman always has looked out for Lydia." Just as if it went without saying that it was him that'd done it, and also as if it just went without saying that he had every right to, too. Then she glanced at Prudence, and added, "So that's the guy over on Booker Street, right? I heard about that. I also heard he liked to run over things with his car…"

Lydia looked at her, clearly annoyed. "You couldn't have mentioned that _before_ I went out with him?" She asked stonily.

"Well, he seemed like such a nice guy…" Bertha demurred, shaking her head. "I thought it'd be good for you to get out… After everything that happened with Vincent…"

"And that's my cue to change the subject." Beetlejuice grumbled, still not ready to just let the previous situation rest, but definitely not ready to bring up the brooding prince. "The guy's history, forget it." He started spooning macaroni into his mouth again, pretending that was that.

"Oh, I think it was bound to happen sooner or later." Bertha smiled suddenly, the look of someone who knows damn well she has an especially juicy secret, and no intention to share. "I'm surprised it took this long." Everyone there gave her a sort of long, measured look, until the girl clearly started to look uncomfortable. "That is… I mean…" She stuttered, flustered.

"I thought they were nice together." Prudence interrupted, turning to pour some sweet tea she'd brought. "He was very well behaved, not like most boys… And he was always polite, and he treated Lydia very well."

Now it was everyone's turn to look at her, but unlike Bertha, she seemed utterly indifferent to their stares. As if she were just used to it. Gradually, everyone turned back to their meals, something taken out of the formerly light-hearted atmosphere. Beetlejuice felt oddly as if something important had just been decided between the girls, or at least put on the table, but for the afterlife of him, he couldn't have said what it was.

One thing for sure… Lydia's friends had changed. And he wasn't so sure he liked it, after all. Damn breathers.

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They had resumed the discussion that Lydia's father had started that morning, albeit without her, and were currently knee-deep in just exactly could be considered, 'too involved in death.' Edmond was pretty firm on where he stood, stubbornly, while both Barbara and Adam thought he was being a little unreasonable, and Olivia…

Torn between pretty much the only people in the world she gave a damn about these days, she really didn't know what to say. Not because she didn't have an opinion, but because she had a feeling that if she said what she wanted, she'd never be able to take it back again.

The bottom line was that none of them were expecting it, though they all should have been, when a sudden billow of white smoke rose just to the side of them, wafting, forming, and fading, to reveal the ever-irritable Juno. If she expected them to be in anything like awe of her powerful person though, Edmond's immediate greeting of her dismissed that idea. "You were supposed to be here hours ago!" He informed her impatiently, just as if he knew her schedule better than she did.

Juno took a long draw of her cigarette, regarding the man with impassive eyes, utterly unimpressed by the gaze that so many living shied from. "Oh, now you're the one keeping track of these things?" She muttered at him, wafting away his complaints with an indifferent wave of her hand. "Because I could have sworn your daughter had been on a picnic for the past two hours, and quite frankly, I don't have the time to wait around." A pause, and a drag, before, "Now she should be here any minute, so do you have anything else you'd like to address, while we wait?"

A heavy silence fell over the room, but this time, Olivia knew exactly what to say. The rest could wait, this might be her only chance, and old fears did not sway easily. "Where is… he?" She asked with forced control, though her voice did its best to waver. Juno's eyes flicked to her, in such a way that it was clear she knew damn well who the woman was talking about, but she said nothing. "Is there any chance of him getting out again?"

For a long moment, the social worker just regarded her, weighing her answer in her head, before sighing, and looking anywhere but at the breather who'd had such a close call once, with her own former assistant. "He's been out for years." She informed the woman flatly, not acknowledging the way her face went even paler than usual at the words. "These days, he pretty much comes and goes as he pleases. Can't do a damn thing to stop him."

"You mean he found someone to marry him?" Barbara demanded, a little incredulously. The thought of the revolting poltergeist managing to hoodwink anyone into an afterlife of close proximity to him was pretty disturbing… Though she comforted herself to know that at least it wasn't Olivia.

"I mean," Juno corrected slowly, meeting the ghost woman's gaze with her own steely blue one, "That the man has a way of finding loopholes in loopholes, and it was only a matter of time before he got something he set his sights on. The girl there was the exception, not the rule. You'd do well to remember that."

The door swung open at that moment, casting them all into silence, as any further discussion of the feared poltergeist was pretty much made impossible by Lydia's entrance. The girl came no further than the door though, her face locked on Juno's, suddenly looking like she wanted to be anywhere else… But only briefly, before she put on a mask as utterly indifferent as the caseworker's.

Barbara was the only one who noticed, but for now, she said nothing of it. It wasn't impossible that Lydia knew the woman from her own description, after all… "Lydia," Adam interrupted the heavy silence, forcing a rather unhappy smile, "This is Juno. Our caseworker."

Lydia's reaction was odd, not surprised, or curious in the least, just sort of, guarded. Like she might be in trouble. Suspicious, a little displeased… As much as anything, she looked tired. Like she'd just a really fucking long day, even though it was barely noon. "Please," Juno muttered, her lips turned into a rather unpleasant smile of her own, "You say that like we haven't met before."

The words fell on Lydia like a weight, and she narrowed her eyes briefly, wondering if the woman had come to tell on her. That would top her day off just about perfectly… But what would be the point? Her contract with Beetlejuice was binding. Filling her parents in on that fact could only make things more difficult for all of them, the old ghost included. Before she could think of the right way to approach this however, her mother looked at her a little oddly, asking, "How exactly, have you met before?"

"That girl already has a file on my desk thicker than yours, woman." Juno informed her bluntly, not one to mince words. "But you can relax, Ms. Deetz. For once, that's not why I'm here."

Lydia pointedly didn't turn her gaze to anyone else, pretending for now that Juno was the only other one there. "All right," She agreed slowly, taking off her backpack, and dropping it heavily to the floor, "Give me a clue then. What did I do wrong now?" It had to be bad, no matter what the woman said, for her to be there.

It didn't really matter that she didn't know why the woman was pissed… again. She probably had reason. And whatever it was, was clearly bad enough that her parents had to be included this time. And Lydia was, she was certain, the center of everyone's attention. But for now no one else spoke.

Juno took her own sweet time answering, twisting her cigarette between her fingers, while smoke continued to billow out of the slit in her throat, though she hadn't paused to draw in it since Lydia had arrived. "I'm here," She said at last, just a trace of a smirk to the words, "To talk some common sense into you, girlie. Apparently someone's afraid that you've reached the point where you're romanticizing death… And I'm supposed to nip that in the bud."

The living girl stared at her, kind of caught off guard. That was it? Then she smiled, slowly, an utterly amused, relieved smile. Easy stuff. "I don't romanticize death." She said simply, as if that was that, and reached for her backpack again, ready to go bury her head under her pillow, until the rest of the day was over. Too much drama for one day…

"I'm well aware of that girl," Juno interrupted, a bit more sharply now, "That doesn't mean I'm done with you." Lydia paused, hand still on the strap, and gave her case worker a steady look. "I know damn well that you don't do any such thing, but your father had the Maitlands's go through all the proper legal channels, so here I am, and you're not leaving until I'm done. Understand?"

Slowly, Lydia straightened again. That wasn't it? _More_? Damn it… "Right." She agreed softly. Better to just get this out of the way as quickly and painlessly as possible.

"You don't understand," Edmond cut in, frustrated, "I'm telling you…"

"And I'm telling you!" Juno snapped, spinning her stony blue eyes on him, flashing with impatience. "Your daughter doesn't idolize death, or whatever you may think. She doesn't have a suicidal bone in her body, either. She actually has a very healthy approach to her own mortality, and in fact a lot of breathers would do well to be so well adjusted to the idea of living and dying, when god knows it can't be changed! And I guarantee you, I know a hell of a lot more about the subject than you do!"

She had no way to know how gratified her words made Lydia feel, but then, she probably didn't care. In fact… "That being said!" She turned back on Lydia sharply, eyes flashing with impatience. "What the hell were you thinking yesterday, girlie? Putting that ward up on your door? If the Maitlands's had tried to force their way through it, you could have done permanent damage to them both!"

For the first time during the little conversation, Lydia looked taken aback, and in fact was. The last thing she'd ever do, was put the two of them in danger… "I didn't know it was real." She said at last, her stomach twisting in guilt. "I'd never do anything to hurt them, you know that."

Juno just gave her a long look, before sighing, and lifting her hand to brush against her temple. "It probably wouldn't matter much if it was for real or not, at this point. A breather with the grasp of occult energy you have could probably put a smiley face on your door, and have it work just as damn well. But for the record, it _is_ the real thing." A pause, and then, coldly, "And while we're on the subject, let's discuss that canopy bed of yours."

The girl's lips twisted, in just a trace of uneasiness. Damn. Everything was catching up with her today, wasn't it? "Come on," She muttered, irked by the unfairness of things, "I've had those runes up there for years… Why is it important now?"

"It's important now, because I just today became aware of it." Juno informed her with an impatient frown. "So I've already taken the liberty of confiscating it, and if you have any complaints, you know where to file them." Lydia blinked, and opened her mouth, possibly to object, but the case worker pressed back on regardless. "I'll have the canopy replaced, and you _should _know that I _don't _have to do that. So unless you have something productive to say, shut it." Lydia did.

"Now, Ms. Deetz…" She went on, not really mollified, but quieter, "I am formally requesting that you have nothing more to do with runes, protection symbols, or so much as writing in any known dead languages, or I assure you that my next visit will be a lot less pleasant. Am I understood?"

The goth girl considered her at length, as if waiting for her to say more. When she didn't, Lydia tilted her head a little, her thick hair falling over her face in a way that shut her away, at least a little, from the woman she was facing. She was tired of being talked at. It brought out the brat in her, and she knew it, and she didn't care. "Does that mean you can write me an excuse to get out of Latin?" She prompted, just a trace of her usual challenge to her voice.

Juno met her gaze unflinchingly, finally beginning to show a trace of genuine anger. Usually only Beetlejuice could do that to her… But these days, she really expected no less from the poltergeist's little protégée, either. "You better be fucking with me, kid." She growled under her breath, taking no pains at civility now.

Perhaps surprisingly, Lydia wilted a little, looking less rebellious. Damn. She just didn't have the strength today. "Forget it," She muttered, avoiding the old ghost's gaze, "I finished that class last year."

The case worker's brow furrowed a little. "Wonderful." She muttered. "So now you have a functional understanding of one of the languages you're not supposed to use." She paused to take a long drag of her cigarette, like that helped her think, and for a moment they all drowned in white smoke. Lydia was more or less used to it by now, but her parents, all of them, made disgusted faces. It kind of made her want to laugh.

With a twisted set to her lips, Juno shook her head, and with a moment more, went onto another track of thought, without faltering. "Your father's doing his best to deal with everything that's happened to him since he met your mother, Ms. Deetz. Some breathers aren't meant to have dealings with the dead, and for being one of them, he'd done pretty damn well. Even sees us now. So try to be a little easier on him, will you? I don't need any more wasted calls."

She expected her father to say something about this, challenge the woman, but he didn't. He actually looked a little, defeated. Kinda how she felt, though she was certain that wouldn't last. Instead, silence stretched after this, as the Lydia and Juno regarded each other, oddly as equals, despite the differences in rank between them, and the fact that the caseworker could turn her world on her head so fast, it would give her whiplash. Even despite the fact that both of them knew this, and most of the time, Lydia didn't give a crap anyway.

So it was a little strange, that it was finally Lydia who looked away, making a brief look of surprise cross Juno's face. There was no point to getting herself in more trouble, just because she wanted someone to yell at. Juno was not the best person to vent at, even when she had reason. "I'm sorry, all right?" She muttered under her breath, sounding as guilty as she had a moment before, though she almost had to swallow her tongue to say it. "I didn't mean to cause this kind of trouble. I wouldn't have done it, if I'd known it would."

Juno considered her, a little incredulously. "You?" She grunted at last. "Apologizing? Could it be you actually have a fucking idea of how dangerous what you did, was? Do you care who you hurt? Or are you just trying to squirm out of more trouble?"

"No. I mean it." Lydia frowned, running her fingers uneasily through her loose mop of hair. "Believe me, I've had practice doing this lately. Seems like I've been apologizing to everyone." And she was more than a little tired of it, to tell the truth… Even if she probably wasn't done yet.

Clearly Juno didn't know what to say to this right away, but at last she nodded, looking marginally mollified. "You might not be the brat you used to be…" She muttered under her breath, just a little dubiously. "Just try to stay out of trouble."

She started to turn then, to leave, and it seemed Lydia was in the clear… When she paused, and looked back over her shoulder, clearly weighing her next words carefully. "My condolences on what's happened recently." She offered suddenly, her voice just a little gentler. "For what it's worth, I thought you were a good influence on the kid. Gave him a bit of a spine."

There was an uncomfortable silence following this, as Lydia knew damn well what she was talking about, but it was clear that no one else there did. Finally it was Barbara who spoke. "I'm not sure who you mean, Juno. Who-?"

"The boy she was dating," Juno flicked her fingers dismissively, "What did you call him?"

"Vincent." Lydia answered softly, feeling yet another blow to her gut, just saying his name. She really was the talk of the neitherworld… Wonderful. The neitherworld, the living world… She just wasn't going to be allowed to handle this gracefully, was she? But Juno's sympathy was still unexpected… "I can't believe you thought I was good for him. What happened to me being nothing but trouble?"

"In his case, that was a good thing." Juno noted, with just a touch of regret. "That damn family of his has done their best to beat the spirit out of that boy from the time he was born… You gave him something to fight for, and god only knows he needed it." She shook her head. "It was actually worth all the paperwork you ended up causing me."

"Vincent?" Adam prompted, after it became clear she was done, looking puzzled. "Do you have a file on him too? I thought you dealt mainly with the dead..."

"No file." Juno dismissed, quickly looking more collected again, "Just a personal interest. He's out of my jurisdiction." She was still giving Lydia a long, steady stare, before she abruptly made a sound that the goth girl couldn't identify, and turned her back on all of them. "Just keep out of trouble." She warned again, before vanishing in another white billow, gone as quickly as it came.

Once the woman who'd dominated the conversation was gone, everyone turned their gaze to Lydia. Her hair in her face, she considered them through the veil of black, a curtain cutting her world off from theirs. She needed that distance just then. She'd deal with their reactions more fully later. But the truth was, no one really seemed to know how to deal with everything that had just been said… Even if Lydia alone knew that that wasn't even the half of it.

Behind the silky strands, she cast an ever so brief glance in the direction of the poltergeist, the cause of more headaches than he knew, even if he was worth them… Who'd listened to pretty much the whole thing without a word, though she was certain he had to be grinning his ass off, at the least. Just making her that much more annoyed.

But for now… Those same eyes flickered to her father, her father she _already _wasn't happy with, and something grew cold in them. He'd really gone that all out… It made her stomach cold, and she felt suddenly distant from the man in a way that she didn't really care, just then, if she ever reclaimed again.

And with that same coldness, that same_ 'you-have-no-idea-who-I-am' _set to her lips, she asked softly… "Anything else?"

---------------


	9. Things Become 'Normal'

Beetlejuice doesn't belong to me. If you want to split hairs, I don't know exactly who he belongs to… Tim Burton, The Geffen Film Company, whoever wrote the myriad of scripts… (Probably not that last.) It's all legal techno-babble to me, and I don't know much about that stuff. I do know enough not to claim he's mine, or try to make money off him, or I'm screwed. Which sucks. I mean, who wouldn't want to make a living doing what they love? But I guess I should just be grateful I can do it at all… Where would I be, if I couldn't? …Probably doing it anyway, but if anyone asks, I'll deny it. You'll vouch for me, right?

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Okay, I made the mistake of looking up the definition of a 'Mary-Sue,' on wikipedia... Now I have a new paranoid obsession to dwell on. And it probably wouldn't matter if every reader here wrote and told me I was being silly. Which they might not, for all I know. The point is, that's just how my mind works. And the true irony is, if irony is the word, that for a change, I'm actually pretty happy with how this chapter turned out... But that doesn't mean I still won't be picking it apart until the next one goes up. Maybe longer. Neuroses are wonderful things... Lol. Ah well, if this is the worst I have to deal with... All that... I'm doing pretty well.

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That had gone well.

Lydia wasn't so much surprised that her parents hadn't had a ready answer to her suddenly rebellious attitude, as she was certain that they'd think of one soon. So on her escape to her room, the first thing she did was cross to her dresser, pull her camera out of the top drawer, and face the mirror with an expression of frustrated defiance, ready to get as far from any of them as she could go.

"Babes… Not that I like being the voice of reason…" Beetlejuice began, popping in behind her with a look on his face that wondered what the hell he was doing, even trying, "Hell, can't stand it myself… But don't you think this is just gonna…?"

She turned on him shortly, no longer angry, just desperate beyond all reason to escape her problems for a while. "What's the furthest spot in the neitherworld, from here?" She demanded, not even letting him try to think of what he ought to be saying, which in its own way, was more than a little relieving for the poltergeist. Hell, he'd never_liked _the voice of reason in his afterlife! Always spoiling people's fun.

Beetlejuice wrinkled his brow, trying to figure out how to answer that question. "Well hell, Lyds. The neitherworld don't work that way. It's all parallel… Nothing in it's any further from anything else." A pause then, "Come to think of it, that don't make shit for sense, does it? The whole thing can't be all side by side at once… But hell, I never was any good at math."

Math? Lydia gazed at him without understanding for a moment, before she came to her own conclusion. "So one spot's as good as another," She agreed, turning back to the mirror, "Thanks."

Before she could jump through though, he noted, not entirely willingly, "Running from your problems don't solve shit, babes. Trust me on this one. Hell knows I've tried enough times." And god knew he didn't expect her to listen to him, but to his surprise, she stayed in that position, hands dipped into the frame, foot on the handle of the bottom drawer, ready to push herself up and through… And just sort of waiting.

Then she turned, regarding him with what could only be called confliction, as well as a bit of puzzlement, and prompted suddenly, "You wanna run away with me, Beej?"

"Well hell, you put it that way!" He grinned, giving up his attempt at a responsible role model, which didn't do shit for him anyway. "I say we head somewhere with sun, surf, and hard liquor! Not to mention nude sunbathing, mandatory of course…" She smirked a little at this, before he paused, and in one last effort to do the damn right thing, he added, "Preferably in the living world. There sure as fuck ain't nothing that good in the neitherworld." _Death ain't the way out, babes…_ He could remember her mother asking kind of the same thing, all those years ago… How to get 'in…'

"Doesn't matter to me." She agreed flippantly, obediently drawing from the mirror, and tucking her arm around his side instead. "Someplace I won't be carded, right? Mexico, maybe."

"Now you're talking, babes!" He agreed with a little cackle, trying not to notice how she was kind of avoiding his gaze, or the stiffness of her arm where she held him. "Tijuana, now that's the place to get good tequila!" He dropped his arm over her shoulder, and again, against his will, he noticed how she went slightly tense against him. And against every instinct he had to get her drunk and willing, now that she'd pretty much given him permission to do just this, he paused, and frowned. The girl was acting straight weird… For her, anyway.

"All right," He grumbled, eyeing her suspiciously, "What's the catch?" He wasn't one to offer comfort, or be all cajoling and know the right thing to say… But he just didn't like seeing her like this!

Lydia blinked, looked up at him, and considered him at length, with those same cold eyes she'd turned to her father. She'd gone numb, he realized with a little twist of his gut, she really was running away, from everything. Even him, and she was inviting him to go with her. Fuck that. "Snap the fuck out of it!" He growled, grabbing her by the arm, and giving her a good shake. "I want my babes back!" Like she was fucking possessed or something… Pissy moods though, he knew, could be just as damaging.

At first she just looked surprised, then slowly, angry. He didn't care, he shook her again. In situations like this in the movies, the broad would snap out of it better if you gave them a smack on the head, but for the death of him, he couldn't bring himself to hit her. And it was probably just shit anyway. So every time she opened her mouth to talk, to argue, he gave her another shake, until she was clearly finally, truly pissed.

And she showed it by decking him in the jaw, without warning. Rather hard.

He stepped back with a grunt, surprised at the force of the blow her tiny fist could inflict. He rubbed his chin with a frown… Damn, that hurt. But now the girl looked appropriately horrified, her jaw dropped, her eyes wide… Hell if he wasn't milking this for all it was worth.

His green eyes insulted, he retreated to the ceiling of her room, tipped back in a lounging position, giving her a dirty look. She probably wasn't done venting… Fine. Let her take it out on him then. Bottling that stuff up was poison for the dead, much less the living. She could make it up to him later. And getting yelled at was better than trying to be all touchy-feely with that emotion shit… He wouldn't even know where to start.

Weird how the last few days had been treating her though… Ever since he came back from hanging around with that what's-her-name. He'd only been gone for fucking three days, and she'd been fine before he left… And he was fucking _here _now… But who could figure out women? He rubbed his jaw again, making clear she knew she'd done damage, even though the pain had truthfully already receded. Not much hurt him for long…

"Beej…" She no longer looked the least bit angry, still just horrified. "I'm sorry, I didn't…" Of course, then the confusion welled up, and with a soft sigh, she folded, right there on the floor. "Damn. What is with me lately?" She protested softly. "When did I turn into such a bitch?"

Hmm, self pity. Also not the Lyds he was looking for. But at least a step forward from not giving a shit about nothing. "So how many personalities you got in that head now, Cybil?" He demanded, pretending to be angrier than he was. That just made her wilt a little…

Before she lifted her head, still unhappy looking, but with a trace of her old self in her eyes again. "I've had a shitty week," She said matter-of-factly, "And no one wants to give me time to get over it. What is with everyone attacking me from every side like this?"

Beetlejuice snorted. "I ain't attacked you for shit!" He denied vehemently.

"No…" She agreed with a sigh, folding her legs to her chest. "You've just been acting like I have some kind of new sign on my forehead… 'Interested in hot young jailbait? Look here!'"

He cackled at the idea, and couldn't resist snapping his fingers to produce a fitting plywood sign, to wrap her like a sandwich. She blinked, looking down at herself, and read the lazy, upside down scrawl, covering her own bold print words. '_Like you don't eat it up_…'

It finally had the effect of making her giggle, and then, sigh, looking like maybe, for now, whatever bizarre moods had gripped her lately, were passed. Her lips twisted in a little amused moue, she noted softly, "I still wanna get the hell out of here for a while."

Beetlejuice shrugged, banishing the sign with a flick, and rolled up to a sitting position, resting his elbows in his lap. "So pick a den of sin, babes… New Orleans, Las Vegas, Tijuana… Fuck, you wanna talk seedy, there's spots in New York that can make all of them look tame!" He drifted down a little, curling his fingers at her with a smirk. "Come on babes, board the B-train for trouble, we'll have a blast… Or at least blow something up in the process! It'll be fun!"

Getting to her feet a little awkwardly, she eyed him with a smile as he patted his knee, waggling his eyebrows at her lecherously. "I am sorry, you know." She said softly, reflecting that she was saying it, again, when the words had to be pretty much alien to him. He just looked puzzled, and impatient, like he'd already forgotten what she was talking about.

Then he grunted, apparently remembering, and ran his fingers along his chin again, working his jaw in a sort of exaggerated way. "Could make it up to me…" He mused, in a slow drawl, all manner of ideas flicking across his gaze again. "Sure I could think of something…"

"I'm sure you could." She agreed, grimacing, but amused. It felt better not to be crazy pissed… But Beej could make pretty much any situation better, couldn't he? "Look, I got like twenty bucks saved up… Can I just buy you a halfway decent bottle of booze, or something?"

"Halfway decent?" He grunted, eyeing her with a frown. "Who the hell wants halfway decent? Look, save your money babes, I want whiskey, I'll steal it. Nah, got something else in mind for you…" His gaze got a thoughtful sort of look, as he now considered the 'problem' with a bit more seriousness.

It was a little strange then, when just as abruptly, his eyes flicked down to her, narrowed for a moment, and then, oddly, he seemed ready to dismiss the whole thing. "Naw babes, I'll tell you what. I'll take a rain check on that little favor you owe me. Wait until you're in a better mood."

Lydia made no mistake that this was Beetlejuice scheming, and wasn't sure how to take it. Sure, they'd joked around a lot over the years, pulled pranks on each other and all that, but she wasn't sure she'd ever been the center of his schemes before… Well, with the exception of the one binding, which was really her own damn fault anyway. "I don't trust you." She informed him matter-of-factly, just making him cackle away, like it was funny, or something. "Yeah, laugh your ass off…" She shook her head, still not upset anymore. "You just like keeping me on my toes…"

This was so close to what he'd thought of her, a dozen times or so over the years, that it just made him laugh harder. Then he clapped his hand down on his knee again, smirked at her, and reminded the girl smoothly, "Now what was that you were saying, about running away together, Lyds? 'Cause I solemnly swear," And he held up his hand, like he'd ever been a boy scout, "You and me? We _will_ have fun, babes."

She giggled, and was about to answer, when she heard someone clearing their throat from the mirror, to gain her attention. Her head spun that way, her heart dropping somewhere in the depths of her guts, as she thought for one wild minute that Prince Vince was back to reintroduce even more unwanted drama into her life… When she saw Ginger leaning against the frame, considering her with a thoughtful pursing to her large, normally smiling mouth.

"Well hon, are you coming?" She asked, with a wave of her hand, like they'd had some plans Lydia had simply forgotten. "The Monster's party is gonna start any minute… Remember? Bad music, weird neitherworld treats…" She paused as she saw Beetlejuice in the background, his face breaking into a slow grin. "Uh-oh," She murmured, clearly seeing this as trouble, "Didn't know you had company, sugar. Maybe this can wait for another time, right?" Which made no sense at all, if the party was starting _now_…

Unless of course, she took Beetlejuice's reputation into account. A grin, _almost _as sinister as her best friend's, spread itself across Lydia's face, and the girl looked from one to the other, with their matching trouble-making smiles, and looked a bit like she was now considering sitting the party out herself. "Oh, that poor Monster…" She murmured under her breath, "I just know he's gonna be mad at me for this…"

Lydia reached out, snagged Beetlejuice from midair, and cast him a look that on anyone but her, would have made him nervous. Instead he felt like he'd just won the beetle-bucks lottery, and it was all he could do, not to go off on one of his more maniacal laughs. _Save that for later_…

All he said aloud, was, "B-words, babes."

Just as she was opening her mouth to say it the first time though, there was a low knock on the door, followed by the last voice she wanted to hear just then… Her father. "Lydia?" Something in his voice sounded, different. Not quite as certain as before. But she _still_ didn't want to talk to him. "Can I come in?"

"Hell, no." She muttered under her breath, grasping to Beetlejuice with both hands now. "Get us out of here… _Beetlejuice-Beetlejuice-Beetlejuice_!" All almost in one word.

And like that, her dad became a problem she could deal with later… And meanwhile, maybe things in her life could get back to normal …

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"Goll-durn-it, Beetlejuice!" The Monster-Across-The-Street roared, every hair of his impressive ruff standing on end as he faced off against the poltergeist, brandishing his broken banjo. "I know it was you that put neither-mites in the salad! Now they're eatin' everything in sight, and- _What have you done to mah Poopsie?_"

All around them, the local ghosts and ghouls of the neighborhood were running around like madman, scratching themselves silly, jumping into punch bowls, and fighting over the garden hose. Beetlejuice just grinned his 'I-didn't-do-shit' grin, holding a large black and white cat out of sight behind him, as said dog went crazy at the temptation. "Me? Just trying to enjoy the party, pard'ner!"

About at this point, the Monster and his dog seemed to suddenly be bit by whatever was making everyone else itch. Poopsie went crazy, while the Monster tackled the closest cactus like a backscratcher, both momentarily forgetting Beetlejuice.

The only ones who seemed unaffected were himself, the cat, and Lydia. The last of which, couldn't decide whether to be pissed off at him, or piss herself laughing. She settled for an insane little sound, which could have been taken either as a giggle, or a sound of outrage. "What are you doing with Loki?" She demanded, lips pursed in an effort not to laugh. These were her friends he was tormenting… Well, some of them anyway. She didn't really give a damn either way about the rest.

Beetlejuice tipped his head, as if in thought, drew the cat, which looked utterly unimpressed, from behind his back, and considered him as if only now noticing just whose cat it was. "Dunno." He shrugged, still playing innocent. "Damn thing just showed up, so I decided to have a little fun." He held the annoyed looking feline in Poopsie's direction again, making the, ah, dog, go mad at the end of his leash. He seemed to think it was damn funny…

Snagging Loki from Beetlejuice's arm, if not in time to prevent the cat from giving the ghost a good solid taste of his claws in parting, Lydia sighed bemusedly, looked around, and wondered again what had everyone up in panic. "Beej…" She prompted slowly, softly, "What else did you do?"

"Why," He stood stiffly, trying to look dignified… And spoiling it with the way his lip kept twitching, "I am offended by the very suggestion. Clearly the Monster's devoted canine is merely suffering from a case of spectral fleas… And of course, they only affect those from the neitherworld…"

"Which doesn't explain why you're not scratching." Ginger noted, combing four of her eight 'arms' over her back in an attempt to reach her itch. "Besides, everyone knows there's no such things as spectral fleas… They're just a story!"

"Hmm." Beetlejuice was next to Lydia now, considering the cat that had caught him on the chin as well, drawing his fingers across the tiny drops of blood. In a tone only loud enough for Lydia to hear, he murmured matter-of-factly, "Spectral fleas, itching powder from 'Gags 'N Chains…' Hey, I'm working on a budget here!" He pointed at the cat, adding, "You're next, tabby!"

She'd rarely seen Beetlejuice quite so thoroughly enjoying such small-time pranks, and considered him curiously, wondering what he was up to. It was solved a moment later though, when he made a sweeping gesture with his arm around them, grinned at her, and inquired innocently, "Great party, huh babes? Feeling better yet? You know _I_ am…"

Lydia made a small sound of annoyance with her tongue, and even managed to suppress her smile. "Stop torturing my friends to try to cheer me up." She ordered him sternly, certain that wouldn't _really_ end the pranks… Just make him more careful who he pulled them on. "I'm in a perfectly good mood already." She pointed at the spider girl, adding, "Fix what you did to her, Beej."

"Huh." He looked annoyed at her lack of appreciation for his genius, gave an absent wave of his hand, and abruptly, a bucket of water appeared over her friend, tipping, and drenching her in lavender-colored suds. "That better?"

Ginger gave a little shriek of surprise, but broke off abruptly, her eyes growing wide. "I don't itch anymore!" She noted in puzzlement, droplets hanging from her long dark lashes, her pink silks clinging to her quite…

An odd fury swept Lydia as she realized Beetlejuice was now staring at the spider, quite bemused. She yanked off her own poncho, before she could question it any further, and threw it over her small pink friend, effectively blotting whatever image Beetlejuice was currently musing over, from his sight. The surprising thing was that when she did, he actually looked out of sorts, and wandered away, muttering under his breath.

Damn him! Couldn't he keep his brains out of his pants for two minutes? Lydia fumed as she led away Ginger, who didn't seem to understand the girl's sudden frustration. "You're not gonna get me dry that way, hon!" She protested, trying to hand the poncho back to Lydia. "And you need that to keep you warm!"

Lydia paused, crouched down a little, and whispered to Ginger softly, "I hate to tell you this… But, you can kind of see right through that outfit when it's wet, Ging."

The spider's eyes grew wide, and she made a little sound of horrified outrage, grabbing the poncho to her harder. It took her a moment longer to regain her composure enough to speak. "I- I got some dry clothes back at the apartment, sugar… Will you come with me? Even if I hate to leave Beetlejuice without anyone who can keep an eye on him…"

"It's just as well," Lydia admitted, in that same quiet voice, "I think most of what he's been pulling was to try to impress me, anyway." Ginger gave a little, embarrassed laugh, nodded, and took the goth girl by the hand, leading her to the building across the street.

Lydia had been in Ginger's place before, just not often. Because it was, well, small. She had to bend her knees to keep from hitting her head, and after just about a minute of that, decided to just sit down while Ginger got her things instead. So the spider fished around in her little pink chest of drawers, while Lydia sat holding the, now purring, Loki.

"So that's your cat, huh, hon?" Ginger prompted, stripping out of her clothes unabashedly before her friend… Who despite her curiosity, turned her gaze away. Her friend was _not_ a freak show. "'Spose if Beetlejuice was telling the truth, he must be at least on his seventh life, then!"

The words caught Lydia briefly off guard, and then just as suddenly, she realized that here was a chance to have her earlier question about the animals answered. "Seventh life?" She echoed, a bit slowly. "So you mean that whole thing about cats having nine lives is true?"

Ginger made a small sound of distain, squeezing into a skirt that was really too tight, even dry. "Course not, sugar… Cats have thirteen lives, not nine. I mean, sure, some hang around with their humans until they're done with their haunting, you know, keeping them company… But then they're just born again and again, until they fill their quota. After seven times, they can come and go in the neitherworld pretty much as they please… But not many do."

Lydia pondered this. "And then what happens?" She asked softly, rolling over the fact that the cat in her arms had lived his life, and died, at least six times. "When they fill their quota, I mean?"

At this, Ginger paused briefly, turned to look at her living friend, and gave a small frown. "Funny thing… No one talks about that much. Guess 'cause no one knows… No one I've ever met, anyway. Maybe they go somewhere else… Someplace even further away than the living world."

"But I heard," And her voice dropped marginally here, like what she was about to say just wasn't intended for other ears, "That they're not the same, when they're done. You know, that they stop being either alive, or dead. That they're something else." A pause, and then a shake of her head. "But like I said hon, no one knows where they go. These days, no one even asks much, unless they're new. And no one likes talking about it… I don't know why."

When not much in life struck Lydia as eerie anymore, Ginger's words, accompanied by the look Loki was currently giving her, like he knew the secrets of life and death even better than she did… Well, it kind of creeped her out. And a small smile pursed her lips, as she enjoyed the slight chill that the idea of some even bigger unknown brought her…

Leaning close to Loki, she whispered for the cat alone, "When you figure out what's waiting, you come back and tell me, all right?" Loki though, just flipped his ears, looked suddenly bored, and stretched lazily. Any illusion of great mystery, gone.

Oh well. She scratched him under the chin, kind of liking the idea of some mystery even she couldn't solve, and only turned her attention away once Ginger was suitably dressed again… Currently considering her from the ceiling, which left them about at eye level, as she started to stand, assuming they were leaving.

"Hon, since that Beetle-fellah pretty much spoiled all the Monster's drinks out there, how about I get you a glass of spider cider, before we head back?" The light-hearted tap dancer offered, holding two hands under her chin in a way that just enhanced her wide lipped grin. "It's really good!"

Lydia considered her with an answering twist to her lips. "You know, I always wanted to try that stuff," She mused slowly, wondering again what it tasted like, "But I was never sure if it was made _for_ spiders, or _from _spiders, so…" She paused at a look of slow horror spreading on her friend's face, and looked appropriately concerned. "What is it, Ging?"

"I just- I never thought about that before." The spider whispered, clearly horrified by the idea. "I always just figured…" She cast a thoroughly unhappy glance towards her little fridge in the corner, clearly cast into some sort of guilt consumed crisis by Lydia's innocent observation. "Oh my…" She murmured, in quite possible the smallest voice that Lydia had ever heard from the girl. "What have I been doing?"

The goth girl was left wanting to reassure her friend, to make up for her blunder, and utterly unsure how to do it. "I bet we could ask Beej," She offered at last, managing a smile she didn't really feel, as much as anything at the suggestion, "I mean, he eats spiders all the time, I bet he'd…"

But of course, this just brought a new horrified look from Ginger, who was now considering her as if she'd just confessed that her best friend routinely ate babies. "Come on, Ging," She murmured, unable to escape the sense that she was just digging herself in deeper and deeper, "It's not like you're a real spider, right? I mean, you were human once…"

"That was a very long time ago." Ginger informed her, with a look of clearly pressed patience, "And I been a spider for a lot longer than I was ever human, sugar. And even if I'm not a real spider, they're still like cute little versions of me, you know?" She shook her head slowly. "Like pixies, with eight little legs, and cute little threads."

Lydia decided that this wasn't the best time to point out that most spiders had cannibalistic tendencies anyway… "Just look at the ingredients," She advised instead, avoiding the previous line of discussion as thoroughly as possible. "I mean, they have a list, right?"

The spider girl just gave her living friend a long look. "Sugar," She said at last, sounding tired, if no longer quite as annoyed, "If you think people in the neitherworld want to know what's in the food they're eating, you obviously don't know the kinds of things we eat down here." This left Lydia, quite effectively, without anything to say.

"And I'm worrying too much about a little cider," Ginger went on, the set of her lips suddenly becoming annoyed, "When I've still got to go back out there and deal with that trouble-making poltergeist of yours. I'm really not surprised he tried to see me in my skivvies… What surprises me is that for a change, he ain't been hitting on me all day, like he usually does! That ghost can't usually keep his hands to himself for two minutes!"

Come to think of it, Beetlejuice really had been on his best behavior… sort of. Well, aside from the pranks. Usually he ended up with his arm halfway down someone's blouse by now, or his head up someone's skirt. It bothered her a little, reflecting that she might actually be having a good influence on him… He just wouldn't be Beetlejuice without being a lecherous pig… Until she reflected that it was probably just in an effort to get in her pants instead, and her world abruptly righted itself again.

But she had to give some sort of answer to Ginger, who was now giving her an odd little look, like she'd suddenly gained the ability to read minds… Or at least, tell when someone wasn't saying something. Lydia decided honesty was the best policy… At least in this case. "He's probably too busy trying to think how to get me all soft and willing at the moment," She muttered, with a little, oddly satisfied smile, "He'll wait until he's given up on that score, before he starts chasing random skirts again."

Ginger, oddly enough, looked horrified at Lydia's confession, her eyes wide, and her mouth opening and closing several times before she summoned the ability to speak. "But hon, he's known you since you were just a kid… Ain't that kind of disturbing?"

"Not really." Lydia confessed, sparing just one brief moment to wonder why that was so, before dismissing it. "Beej is Beej… He was bound to notice I grew up sooner or later. Anyway, I'm not gonna let it get in the way of us having fun." At Ginger's slightly wider eyes, she cast her a chastising glance, and added, "Not like that."

"But… he ain't gonna give up, sugar!" Ginger protested, as if this were really the worst thing the goth girl had to worry about, a little innuendo and lewd suggestions from someone who'd never gone out of his way to shield her from them before. "He ain't the type!"

"He also isn't the type to wait around indefinitely for me to give it up." Lydia pointed out, absolutely unmortified by the blunt way she was putting it, unlike her friend. "When I don't put out for long enough, he'll go off chasing some other skirt, and settle for just the occasional inappropriate comment instead. And he's always been inappropriate." A small smile. "I'm really not that worried, Ging. It's just a matter of waiting out his libido." She wondered at just what point she'd decided it would be that easy…

"Huh." Ginger didn't look too convinced, but with some difficulty, seemed to be trying to accept her friend's words. "So, um, you wanna go back to the party? That is, if your Beetle-fellah ain't completely destroyed it by now…"

"He'd probably wait until I got back to do that." Lydia noted dryly. A pause, then, guiltily, "I know I came looking for trouble, but I still feel kind of like an ass now, ruining everybody's fun."

"Oh, you didn't do that, sugar!" Ginger assured her quickly, looking only marginally out of sorts now. "Everyone knows you're not responsible for Beetlejuice!" And of course, Lydia just smiled, sort of going along with it…

But the truth was, she'd kind of been responsible for him now, since the first time she let him out… And she knew it.

----------------


	10. Debts

Beetlejuice doesn't belong to me. If you want to split hairs, I don't know exactly who he belongs to… Tim Burton, The Geffen Film Company, whoever wrote the myriad of scripts… (Probably not that last.) It's all legal techno-babble to me, and I don't know much about that stuff. I do know enough not to claim he's mine, or try to make money off him, or I'm screwed. Which sucks. I mean, who wouldn't want to make a living doing what they love? But I guess I should just be grateful I can do it at all… Where would I be, if I couldn't? …Probably doing it anyway, but if anyone asks, I'll deny it. You'll vouch for me, right?

----------------

Despite her disappearance from her room, with him actually on the other side of the door… Probably not the most subtle escape she'd ever made… It amazingly hadn't come to another confrontation with her father since. Perhaps more surprising still was the fact that a similar problem hadn't arisen with her mother, over the 'file' Juno had suggested… In fact, much of the week had already passed, without any further significant threat.

At least where her own life was under question. Yet she did consider her father with a glance over the breakfast table that, despite herself, was concerned for the older man. Maybe because for the first time since she'd known him, he actually looked, well, old. He'd become withdrawn, soft-spoken, as if his usual confidence had just been drawn out of him like a stagnant breath… Or more specifically, as if his source of strength all these years had simply, left him.

Lydia hadn't seen her parents together in the same room for more than five minutes at a time since Juno had come, and like her father, it left her with a seriously unsettled sense to her world. The two had never so much as raised their voices at each other, in all the time Lydia had been growing up. Now they simply, weren't talking. Never mind not hanging all over each other, whispering sweet nothings, or exchanging soppy looks, like they usually did. Something had changed. And it wasn't_right_.

She didn't want things to stay this way, but more to the point, she couldn't stand pushing a distance towards the man herself, when at the moment, he already seemed so alone in the world. So she considered him across the table, wondering why she didn't feel more alienated too, with just the two of them eating breakfast together, the rest of the family off somewhere else. But she _didn't _know what to say. What did someone say to a person whose supposedly certain love life had taken an unexpected, and unexplained, shift from the norm? Especially when that person was her father?

"Any plans tonight, Lydia?" He prompted suddenly, breaking the silence instead, as those dark blue eyes lifted to hers with a small, forced smile. It wasn't right, she reflected now, that he ask that question without any hostility. Her protective father, who couldn't stand the mention of a boy being near his daughter, now asking if she had any plans, like it was merely a topic for conversation.

"Not yet." She answered after an awkward moment of uncertainty, deciding the best way to approach this was with humor. "But it's Friday, so I figure five or six guys will ask me out before the day's up. Maybe I'll give you a blow by blow of how I shot them down, when I get home."

Edmond nodded, sort of absently, tucking his fork into the mound of fluffy eggs Barbara had made, before disappearing. "That a girl." He agreed, with a sort of feigned enthusiasm, before falling silent again. It was a long moment before either one of them found anything to say again, but once more, it was her father who broke the silence. "You're not seeing that Vincent boy anymore, are you?"

"No." Her stomach took a dip, but not as drastically as it had just a few days before. She was beginning to come to terms with her decision… As well as simply no longer being part of a 'couple.' It was, oddly lonely, to no longer have that title to cling to. "Don't tell me you're going to start on me about that too… You never even seemed to like him."

"I didn't." Her father answered bluntly, his eyes turning gravely serious for one moment. "Don't get me wrong, he treated you well… Almost too well, to be honest. As if he didn't have a lustful thought in that teenaged head of his. But… No." He looked back down at his meal. "I never liked him. I couldn't really tell you myself, why."

Lydia stared at her father, gripped by the sudden notion that maybe the reason he'd never liked Vincent, was because on some level, her father had known he was a ghost. It made her insides twist unpleasantly, before she simply averted her eyes, and forced herself not to dwell on it. She didn't want to think of her dad like that. So she wouldn't, plain and simple. "You'd feel that way about any boy that might steal me from you." She teased instead, pretending she had no other worries.

There was a pause, and then her father smiled. It wasn't his old smile, but it was a smile. "Maybe." He agreed softly. "You're my only little girl, Lydia. God knows I wanted more." This surprised her enough to make her forget her meal, and stare at him. "I wanted a big family, lots of brothers and sisters for you. It just, never worked out that way." And here he seemed to become introspective again.

It was an odd notion, her family being any bigger than it was. Her mother barely knew what to do with her, though there was no question the woman loved her. But a big family… Maybe someday, it would be nice. When she started her own family. So she smiled, teasing him with, "Maybe you'll end up with lots of grandkids instead, right? Even better, all the fun, none of the responsibility."

Edmond groaned softly, shaking his head in denial. "I am _not _ready for you to grow up, Lydia. Grandkids or no. Try to take it slowly, for my sake?"

She couldn't help but laugh, which seemed to ease the strain around her father's eyes. As if things could just go back to normal between them, without a word about what had happened. Any hard feelings, swept under the carpet, and all for the best. "I better get to school," She informed him with a wry twist to her lips, "Or mom and them aren't going to _let_ me grow up."

Lydia got to her feet, and threw an arm around her father's shoulder, giving him a little squeeze. Without really thinking about it, she even dropped a light kiss on his cheek… Somewhere in the back of her mind, wondering when the last time was, that she'd done that. But if he'd never needed her before, he seemed to need her now… That was all that mattered.

But it still needled at her, as she left the big old house, even if she tried to ignore it, squinting at a sun that seemed brighter than it had just a week ago. Spring was somehow into full life, just that quickly… She reflected with a little sigh that she was going to miss the gloomy, overcast days of winter.

Beetlejuice's entrance, once again, caught her by the surprise, in a way the Maitlands' never had. He threw his arm around her shoulder, out of nowhere, a devilish grin set on pale, amused lips, and considered her with eyes that once again, peered into her depths as if she simply had no secrets from the guy. But if he saw her subdued mood there, he didn't comment on it, saying simply, "'Bout fucking time, babes! I was getting ready to check out without you! What the hell, are you actually doing the 'family-time' thing now?"

She grunted, giving his arm a little push, like she was trying to shrug him off… But not attempting it further, when his arm stayed stubbornly in place, even giving her a little squeeze in defiance. "I am so _not _trying to talk to you about family time." She muttered under her breath, lidding her eyes in a way that pretended to be annoyed.

He just cackled away, and dropped his cap on her head with his other hand, pulling it down to cover her eyes. She couldn't remember when he'd started doing that… But it was long enough ago that it no longer made her scalp crawl with all sorts of imagined nastiness, when he did.

Instead she just pushed it back so that she could see, and gave him a little sideways grin. "What has you in such a good mood?" She muttered, amused. "Someone cook breakfast for you, naked?"

Beetlejuice waggled his eyebrows at her, in that positively indecent way he had. "Anytime you wanna offer, babes…" He murmured silkily, leaving her torn between blushing, and laughing along with him. "Anyhow," He straightened, reclaiming his cap from her, and pulling it down in a sly way, "That's a secret, doll. I'm kinda working on a surprise."

"Hmm." Lydia narrowed her eyes at him, utterly failing to look suspicious. "I'm not sure your surprises _could_ bode well… But for the sake of humoring you… What the hell are you up to about now?"

"Nope." He looked pleased that he'd piqued her interest, lips set into a smug curl. "Gonna have to wait like everyone else, babes. Let's just put it this way… It'd be better if you didn't make any plans for tonight. We're gonna be busy." When she just lifted an eyebrow at him quizzically, he did his best to look even more mysterious… Even if he was about as mysterious to her as a can of paint. "You just wait, babes. You won't be disappointed."

Intrigued despite herself, Lydia finally just threw him off… For about ten seconds, before his arm snaked back around her, this time enfolding her waist. Rolling her eyes, Lydia decided to let it go, even if she was doing her best to make certain he knew that she was just humoring him. From the satisfied look on his face though, it seemed that would do… Even if she was enjoying the way he pressed her to his side, more than she cared to admit.

But then, she'd had a lot of time in the past week to reflect on how things had changed between them, since before her conversation with Ginger really, and had come to the conclusion that even though she wasn't about to let the poltergeist have his way with her, she could still enjoy the attention while it lasted. Certainly nothing her ex had done had ever made her feel so damn desired… It was kind of nice, feeling sexy for a change. Not that she really believed she was… But as long as Beetlejuice did, that was fine too.

She dogged him about it for about as long as it took to reach the bridge, then pointedly didn't say another word to the ghost, pretending to fall into a pout. From the way he kept chuckling to himself as they walked along though, glancing at her, and winking from time to time, he wasn't fooled. At last she just gave it up, and grinned like a fool herself, figuring that arguing with him on the matter was pretty pointless. "You're impossible." She informed him, with just a trace of affection.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, Lydia for once not noticing the strange looks they still got, after all this time walking these sidewalks together. An amused little twist to her lip, hair falling over her eyes in a sultry way, the poltergeist clinging to her possessively… It just no longer seemed strange. And if Beetlejuice noticed? He was too busy grinning his ass off to care.

It was only as they reached the all-girl's school that it even occurred to her the sight they must be, largely because they suddenly became a far more direct focus of attention, as teenage girls stared and whispered without caring either way if they were seen. Lydia sighed, finally throwing Beetlejuice off, and turned to him with a look of thin amusement. "You better get out of here, before people really start talking." She noted wryly, only to have him shrug, like he couldn't care either way. "I mean it," She pressed, a little more seriously now, "If my folks find out…"

This was all she said though, as her teacher Miss Shannon seemed to be making a beeline towards them, her disapproving features set into an even primmer expression than usual. This time she gave him a more solid shove, hissing at him to _scat_, giving her time to adjust her jacket, and pretend she didn't notice the teacher's frown.

"Ms. Deetz," The woman frowned, dark gray eyes boring into the girl before her, who couldn't seem to be bothered to meet them, "Was that the Halloween caterer, escorting you to school?" Lydia made an absent sound, making a move to press past her, only to have Miss Shannon catch her by the arm, pressing her point again. "Ms. Deetz! I hardly think it appropriate company for a young lady to this school, to be escorted to class by a man twice her age!"

A slow, unpleasant smile, stretched tightly across Lydia's lips, and she made no more effort to get away, tipping her head back instead, before turning her own intimidating gaze to her teacher's face. She didn't say a word until the woman began to look uncomfortable, giving the impression she was rolling the question over in her mind, before answering.

"Beetleman's an old friend," She said at last, as if this was just an aside to the question the teacher was really asking, "But yeah, he throws a hell of a Halloween party. I think we should get him to do Prom, actually… It's not Halloween, but if it's creepy, over the top, and slightly inappropriate, he's the guy that can pull it off. Sort of a 'Night of the Living Prom Queen,' kind of thing, you know?" Speaking of inappropriate, the fiendish grin she was currently offering could really be called nothing else… She felt like she had years before, when Claire Brewster was still attending the school, facing off with her right before things got _really _nasty. Sort of a willingness to claw the teacher's eyes out that she really shouldn't be feeling.

And from the look Miss Shannon gave her, she really had no idea what to do with such a completely blatant show of challenge, over something she probably expected to be unquestioned in. "Such a, _friendship _itself, is something to be concerned over," She argued at last, looking somewhat flustered, "He is hardly appropriate company for a girl your age, and a disreputable fellow for a woman of any age to associate with, if half the stories I've heard of him are true! What precisely was he doing in your company, young lady?"

This was probably the point where she should demure, promise to keep her distance from him… Anything to avoid further suspicion, or danger from the woman. The fact was, she knew her next words were a mistake long before she said them… But then, that rarely stopped her. "I think he was looking for an excuse to see the seniors in those little plaid skirts." She informed the woman with straight-faced nonchalance, brushing past her as Miss Shannon's mouth moved uselessly in an effort to find a response to this. "Come on, we better get to class… The bell's going to ring any minute."

And damn, she knew she was going to pay for that later… But if she'd ever been the sort to listen to common sense, she never would have made friends with Beetlejuice in the first place, would she?

-----------------

It ate at her a little, all day really, wondering what the ghost with the most had up his striped sleeve this time… Certainly she glanced at the clock a lot more than usual, chewed her eraser to pieces, and doodled his initials in the corners of her papers a lot. And if these were symptoms similar to ones a girl might display before an especially anticipated date… Well, she was going to ignore that for now.

Of course, things were only made worse when school finally did let out, and there was no sign of the poltergeist to be seen. It wasn't like him to lay low, even after the close call they'd had that morning, though oddly again Miss Shannon chose not to press it, so she could only assume he was still up to whatever secret he'd been keeping since that morning. And she could only continue to assume it, the long walk home, alone. By which point she was pretty much as annoyed as excited.

What did the ghost with the most do though, when he got it in his mind to surprise someone? She bit her thumb, slowing as the tall house came into sight, and for one brief instant, considered turning around, and heading back into town. Pretend she'd had detention. Lie through her _ass_. What was she doing, letting him scheme with her this way? It had to be a date he had planned… Wouldn't going with him kind of be leading him on? _Just turn around, pretend you never got this far_…

The front door flew open at this point, and safely behind the thresh-hold she could never cross, Barbara waved at her with a big, honest smile, calling her name. "Lydia! I just finished making those dark chocolate chip cookies you love! With walnuts! Come try them!"

Dark chocolate chip cookies… With walnuts. Damn. Lydia shook her head, resigned to being unable to escape, and ran up the front steps into the ghost woman's arm, like she was still twelve years old. Barbara gave her a hard squeeze, and Lydia breathed in her smell… Like white clover and sunlight. And cookies. It was a more motherly scent than any her real mother had ever offered her, always wearing strange sharp perfumes…

"Hey, Barb." Lydia murmured, tucking her head into her godmother's shoulder, briefly, before drawing away. "What's the special occasion?"

"Oh," A distracted, uneasy look crossed Barbara's face, and she forced a little laugh, dismissing it, "I just had nothing better to do, you know. Decided to get my mind off my mind." She tugged her through the doorway, putting her body between Lydia and the outside, like she was physically shielding her from whatever was bothering the woman. "Your mother loves them too, you two are so much alike…"

How much alike she and her mother were, had long been a source of contention… But Lydia had decided long ago that they were different where it really counted, so she was able to let the comment slide a lot more easily than she used to. "Mom having a hard day?" She asked aloud, wondering only after she asked the question, whether she really wanted to know the answer.

Barbara hesitated, which was really _more _than she wanted to know, then went on anyway, quietly. "Your mother and Edmond had an argument after you left for school." It was said so simply that it took Lydia a moment to understand why it bothered her… Then she knew. Barbara had said, _your mother and Edmond,_ not _your mother and father_. It was such a little thing… But it made Lydia's skin tingle with warning.

She didn't want to know any more. Not just then. Not with Beetlejuice's surprise still waiting. "Still warm?" She asked instead, easily turning the subject back where she wanted it, which seemed to relieve the ghost woman as much as herself.

"Still warm," Barbara agreed, dropping a kiss to the crown of her head, "Just don't eat so many that you make yourself sick." Then she sort of ushered her towards the kitchen, before turning herself, and going up the stairs. Giving Lydia free rein over the cookies. And probably going straight back to her mother…

"I'm being bribed." Lydia muttered under her breath, grabbing a handful of cookies off the warm plate, and taking a savage bite of the first almost immediately. "With cookies. And I'm strangely okay with that." Now she just had to get to her room, preferably without running into any more of her parents…

Approaching the stairs almost guiltily, she put her weight onto the first step in a ginger manner. As if after all this time walking up and down those stairs, she expected them to start squeaking now. But no one emerged back into the hall as she ascended, slowly at first, then more hastily, suddenly worried about being caught… Going to her own room. Life had officially reached the point of insanity.

She moved through her door as quickly as possible, and pushed it shut behind her, loudly enough to make her hair stand on end. Swallowing hard, she stood there with her back pressed hard against the door, a handful of fresh cookies melting guiltily in her hand, as she wondered nervously if she'd been heard. Sneaking out again would require a lot less explanation, if no one knew she'd retreated to her room to begin with… And she had more than a small suspicion that sneaking out was exactly what Beetlejuice had in mind.

"Okay," Beetlejuice interjected, having apparently been waiting on her dresser for her arrival, "What'd you do, and who's after you?" Lydia blinked, and looked at him uncertainly, as he lifted his hand before she could answer, and gave it a roll at the wrist, "Hold on, reverse that. Tell me who's after you, first." Of course he spoiled the whole, 'ready to save her ass' thing, by grinning like an idiot as he said it…

"My parents are weird." She answered flatly, relieved, against her better judgment, to see him waiting, and surely ready to whisk her away from her problems for a while. Not that it wouldn't just cause new ones.

"Ah, spoken like a hundred generations before you babes…" He mused, dusting his knuckles off on his lapel, as if inordinately proud of something he'd just done. "But in your case… Hell, I gotta agree with you, Lyds. Your folks are basket cases."

"Now!" He slapped his knee, hard, making her jump a little, and leered toothily at her. "I know what you're thinking, babes. You've spent the whole day trying to figure out a way to worm yourself out of the little plans I've made… But no deal." He pointed at her, adding evilly, "You owe me." When she would have protested, he sighed, and ran his fingers along his chin, making her words die in her throat. "Hell of a right hook you got babes, but I gotta tell you, it's gonna be worth it." He fixed his gleaming green eyes on her, adding with a menacing smile, "I'm calling in that rain check, now. Got it?"

Lydia's mouth opened and shut uselessly… She wasn't sure exactly when she'd agreed to that, or even if she had, but arguing anything with the mule-headed poltergeist was pretty much a futile effort. At last she shrugged, narrowing her eyes just a little, to show she wasn't up for just _anything_ he had in mind… "So what were you planning?" She asked warily.

"Ah! That's the ticket!" He slapped his knee again, this time jumping to his feet, and fixed her with a look of pure, wicked glee. "See, the way I figure it, you're mine babes, at least 'til the sun comes up. You gotta come with me wherever I tell you, and one way or another, I am _gonna_ make you have a good time tonight." He jutted his hand out with just a touch of a leer, adding smoothly, "Deal?"

Lydia laughed, it wasn't her first instinct, which was pretty much to kick him, but faced with the familiar offer, she wasn't about to take it at face value again. Not for this. "I'll go wherever you want," She agreed, after her snickering died away, her chin tilted in challenge, "But I will _not_ do anything you want. Deal?" And this time she stuck her hand out, not quite grasping his.

If anything, his grin just split wider. "Hell babes, what kind of challenge would that be?" And he grabbed her hand, pumping it twice, firmly. She wasn't sure if she expected some kind of binding this time, there really was no telling with this guy, but it seemed he took her at face value for once… Either that, or he knew it would be a bad way to start their date.

Which was, she supposed, what he was proposing. But she was a little distracted as, at that moment, she felt his energy rise up and around her, kind of touching her everywhere at once, and she drew back her hand with a little sound of protest, before realizing what he'd done. Without a word of warning, he'd wrapped her in a form-fitting dress, striped red and white like a candy cane, with a sweeping skirt, and boots that wrapped softly to her calves. A gauzy red scarf wrapped her throat, and long fingerless red gloves embraced her gently to the elbows, leaving her, roughly, dressed like some glamour model from the twenties. "Beej…" She protested softly…

Only then getting a good look at him. He was wearing, she thought the term was a 'zoot suit,' red and white like hers, thick stripes like his black and white number. White leather shoes gleamed, freshly polished, underneath his long pant legs, and both his cufflinks and his buttons were pearly white beetles. To top it off, he had a wide-brimmed red hat, with a pristine white feather jammed almost comically into the brim… And the whole effect of course, was utterly compounded in sheer abnormality by his own dead appearance, as he grinned at her with jagged teeth, eyes lit like a demon's from some deep level of hell.

Oh god, what was she getting herself into? She smoothed her gloved hands slowly along the amazing material she was wrapped in, looking for something like the right words. "Nice Beej, I gotta say… But I think these clothes might have gone out of style a few decades ago." She didn't look at herself in the mirror, not yet. She couldn't possibly look right in an outfit this fancy…

"Class never goes out of style, babes." He assured her, looking pleased at the entranced light to her eyes. "Besides, where we're going, no one's gonna look at us twice." A pause then, almost casually, "'Cept maybe you, cause I gotta tell you Lyds… You look damn hot."

"Yeah right." She muttered, still not lifting her head to look past him. "Well, at least you left me my bra, I'm kinda surprised that…" She paused suddenly, shifting her weight, and abruptly her face turned bright red. "Where are my underwear?" She hissed, both humiliated, furious... and god help her, trying not to laugh.

A slow pout forming across his face, Beetlejuice sighed, and pulled a silky pair of red undies out of his pocket. _Her_ red undies. Which she'd just been _wearing_. "I was gonna save 'em for a souvenir…" He muttered, looking slighted. "Damn babes, lighten up."

Lydia snatched them from his grimy fingers, briefly debating a retreat to put them back where they went, then briefly considering just leaving them off… But no, he'd enjoy that _way_ too much. "Stay right there!" She growled at him, turning her back to the ghost, and working her underwear on as modestly as possible. Over boots, under skirt… _God, he better not be peeking_…

She smoothed her dress as she stood, looking back at him with just a trace of a frown, though she didn't really feel it. "You're an ass." She informed him flatly, just making him cackle, cock his arm at her with a little roll of his eyebrows, and offer smoothly-

"Shall we, babes?"

Lydia considered him with a long, weighing glance. If she was smart, she wouldn't do it. There was no telling where he was taking her, what he had planned, or where the night might end. But hell if she didn't need something to take her mind off her life for a while, and god knew it would be fun, whatever it was…

And what kind of person would she be, if she started listening to common sense now? "All right, Beej," She agreed, hooking her arm into his, still not sparing a glance at the mirror, "You've got one night. Blow my mind."

And then she was swallowed up by darkness, fire, and ice… Andgod only knew what was waiting beyond...

_-----------------_


	11. Ending in Disaster

Beetlejuice doesn't belong to me. If you want to split hairs, I don't know exactly who he belongs to… Tim Burton, The Geffen Film Company, whoever wrote the myriad of scripts… (Probably not that last.) It's all legal techno-babble to me, and I don't know much about that stuff. I do know enough not to claim he's mine, or try to make money off him, or I'm screwed. Which sucks. I mean, who wouldn't want to make a living doing what they love? But I guess I should just be grateful I can do it at all… Where would I be, if I couldn't? …Probably doing it anyway, but if anyone asks, I'll deny it. You'll vouch for me, right?

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Okay, so I've got these two really great fans, who've done fanart on another one of my Beetlejuice fics... To be specific, on my '_But He Promised Her Forever_,' fic. How incredible is that? So I've been lazy, not telling anyone about them, but I figure, they're nice enough to do something like that, I should really tell everyone who reads my stuff? So check out deviantart .com/art/He-Promised-Her-Forever-107999108, by akynox, and deviantart .com/art/Who-the-hell-are-you-109077022 by beetlebabe. Come on, who could ask for more, than great readers?

That being said... Urg... I know I shouldn't fuss over my own work, and I have been getting better at it, but... Encouragement is welcome.

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A faceful of cold air hit her first, followed by the stinging of tiny snowflakes, driven against her- Wait, snow? Lydia lifted her gaze, releasing the poltergeist only slowly, and found herself standing on cold gray concrete, surrounded on all sides by the sheer dark faces of windowless buildings, stretching for the sky. A pile of toppled garbage cans stood, not ten feet away, and somewhere off to the side, she was sure she saw blinking neon lights… Even if she didn't have a clue what they said.

"Hell." She said softly, not so much in surprise, as it was a guess where he'd taken her. Beetlejuice seemed to get that too, because he hooked his arm around her shoulder, spun her to face the end of the alleyway, and noted in a satisfied voice,

"Better, babes. New York."

Lydia just shook her head, and let him lead her out into the main street, which was crawling with more people on the one sidewalk, than she thought lived in the entire town of Winter River. Her breath momentarily stolen from her lips at the close proximity of pressing bodies, she felt one wild moment of being pinned in, trapped, before her guide drew her out of the worst of the milling locals, and directed her attention to a small metal door just off to the side.

Again Lydia felt a brief, surreal moment of panic, as he steered her to the riveted steel portal, with no sign to indicate what lay within. But with Beetlejuice's arm snuggly around her shoulders, and no way _back_ but the ghost with the most, the overwhelmed goth girl couldn't seem to manage enough of a protest to prevent the door being swung wide, and being drawn into the dark depths within…

This time, the first thing that hit her was the smell of food… Garlic, for the most part, various butter sauces, and what she was certain was an almost overpowering scent of wine. She stumbled a little, making Beetlejuice glance at her from the corner of his eye, though he seemed more amused than worried. He was right though, so far not one person even looked up at them, wherever they were, much less seemed to find the way they were dressed as strange.

A man in an odd tan-colored leather suit was the only one who paid attention to them either way in fact, stepping before them with his hand up, like he personally intended to prevent them from coming in. "Reservations?" He asked bluntly, his tone more than a little bored, as he repeated the question he probably had to ask a couple of hundred times a day.

Beetlejuice bared his teeth, and for one wild moment, Lydia thought the guy was about to be in for some serious 'juicing'… But then the poltergeist just tipped his hat, like he was being polite, and noted with a little bit of a sneer, "Beetleman, buddy. Table for two."

_Beetleman_? It was all Lydia could do, not to fall into a fit of laughter, but the bored man referred to the thick list in his hands, nodded noncommittally, and gestured for them to follow.

The restaurant, as this was what it seemed to be, was dark, and had an overpoweringly… Not quite fishy smell, exactly, but definitely the smell of something close. The only lights in the place seemed to come from low burning oil lamps at every table, which left her wondering for one brief moment how _that_ could be up to code, before she realized, reaching them, that they were actually just very good facsimiles. It gave the place a close, personal sort of feel, everyone leaning in close to everyone else to talk, touch hands…

Lydia was a little nonplussed as the reservation guy, maitre de, or whatever, tried to pull her chair out, only to have Beetlejuice wave him off with a slightly feral smile. "I can do it, buddy." He muttered, closer to a growl, all but snatching the chair from his hands. The other man couldn't seem to care either way, just drifting back to his station without interest.

Beetlejuice slid the chair out for her, slightly mad smile still in place, and waited for her to sit down. She considered him, trying to play the part of a gentleman, and wondered what the hell he was up to. This so wasn't his style… As far as she knew. But she took her seat obediently, and waited as he went to get his own chair… Which he swung around, straddling it like some teenage boy trying to look cool, and folded his arms over the back, just watching her.

"Okay, so… We're eating. Right?" She prompted, since he hadn't said two words yet about just what he had planned. When he just cackled softly, she started to get a little annoyed, even if it was all she could do not to giggle along with him. "Okay, what kind of restaurant are we talking here, Beej… Italian?"

"Shell-food." He answered, a little glint to his eyes showing how much he was enjoying this. Lydia made a soft sound of acknowledgement, waiting for the punch line. "Any kind of thing that wears a shell, they got it to eat at this place," He went on more slowly, as if she were just that simple, "Turtles, snails, crabs, clams… Anything. Kind of a theme thing." He pushed the waiting menu across to her, adding in an innocent voice, "I totally recommend the oysters, babes."

"Oysters," She echoed aloud, smirking, "Right."

Beetlejuice snorted. "Hell babes, that's what I'm gonna have!" This said though, he vanished behind his menu again, making soft 'hemming' sound, like he was still puzzling over something.

Lydia turned to her own menu with a grimace, determined _not_ to get the oysters, or give him any other indication that he was getting his way in this 'date.' Her next instinct, with just a devilish hint of a giggle rising in her throat, was to get the lobster instead… Because god knew _that_ didn't send any mixed signals.

Everything looked good, to be honest, but in the end she decided to go for something safe… Something that probably couldn't be taken as a mixed signal. "I'm gonna have the shrimp cocktail." She murmured, turning her eyes towards the drinks. All that seemed to be available though, was a rather lengthy wine list… "Don't they have anything to drink?"

A low chuckle made her lift her eyes, and frown at Beetlejuice's look of sheer mischief. "You wanted to go somewhere you wouldn't be carded, babes." He reminded her, nonchalantly. "Well hell, there's places like that right here in the good old USA… You just gotta know where to look."

Lydia narrowed her eyes at him. "The end all and be all plan you have for this date, better not be to get me drunk, Beej." She informed him flatly, making him give a sort of stage sigh, like she was just being _so_ unreasonable. "I mean it, Beej…"

"Hell, Lyds… I'm not trying some cheap shit like that with you." He grimaced, waving this away as ridiculous. "The last thing I want is you having some 'morning after' deal, and sending me packing back to dead man's land." A slow smile grew across his pale lips, as if this next just now occurred to him. "Nah babes, when I seduce you, you're gonna know it… And for the record, I ain't even started!"

"Reassuring…" Lydia mused, pushing the menu away anyway. "Well fine, one glass of wine. That's it."

He considered her set, stubborn features, and sighed again, this time inwardly. She had every defense up… Damn it. "Babes," He pleaded suddenly, spinning his chair back around in a seemingly impossible move, that involved his legs not changing position at all, "Just give me a chance, all right? I'm not asking much… Just loosen up a little, and stop staring at me like you have the word, '_NO_,' stamped between your eyes!" A little hint of a tease touched his voice, as he added, "Just be the babes I know and love, all right? One night."

Something in what he'd just said caught her off guard, but for the life of her, she couldn't pin down what it was. But it did make her feel suddenly vulnerable, and left her wondering, for the first time, if maybe she was being too dismissive of the idea. Sure, he was… _Beetlejuice_… But then again, he was, _Beetlejuice,_ too. A guy who'd always treated her like her own person, and even now, when he was at his sleaziest with her, still didn't cross the lines she knew he wouldn't hesitate to, with some other woman.

So she was left looking at him with, above all, a puzzled expression. Best friend. Dead guy. Gross, trouble-making, lecherous Beetlejuice. Did he actually have a _thing_ for her? Like, not just trying to get in her pants? It seemed to go against everything she knew about the guy…

And just thinking about it made her uncomfortable. She'd never considered there might be actual feelings in the equation… And it wasn't something she really wanted to think about now. "One glass." She reiterated, trying to regain some sense of her composure. God, she'd never thought about him like that before, not even with all his flirting and… _Erg, think about something else_… And definitely don't try to understand the way her stomach felt all twisted in knots now, like there might actually _be_ something…

Beetlejuice, utterly oblivious to the thoughts racing through her mind, could only assume that the evening was getting off to a bad start. That was fine. This was Lyds he was talking about after all, she couldn't resist cracking up at his jokes, having a good time with him, maybe even flirting a little in return… The night was just getting started.

He took the brim of his hat between thumb and forefinger, sliding his touch along the edge, and tipped it at her slightly, grinning. Lydia just considered him for an extended moment, still getting her thoughts in order, then prompted suddenly, "You know, you're not supposed to wear your hat at the table."

Beetlejuice scoffed, tipping it down to cover his eyes a little. "Babes, you think I'm gonna start playing by the rules now… You don't know me at all." At this point, the waiter came up to take their orders, and Beetlejuice, not giving her a chance, ordered for them both, adding a request for some wine she couldn't pronounce, two glasses. The man taking their menus didn't so much as glance in Lydia's direction.

"How has this place not been shut down?" She muttered under her breath, finally relaxing a little in her chair, and regarding the hypnotic flickering of the lantern through lidded eyes. She didn't really have anything to say but this though.

Still, there wouldn't be some extended silence, she was sure, not with Beetlejuice. He was fidgeting with his cufflinks, like they pinched him, sort of a sour look pursing his lips, which fell away into an absent expression, all over the course of about thirty seconds. Then he looked at her with inspiration. "How's the blonde bitch doing these days?" He prompted, looking genuinely interested. "She doesn't give you a hard time anymore, right? She graduate too?"

"Two years ago." Lydia assured him, unable to resist a smile, despite herself. "Going to school overseas… Thank god. If she never comes back to Winter River, I sure as hell won't miss her." Her eyes narrowed briefly in thought. "I think she's somewhere in France."

"Wonder what the French ever did to her." Beetlejuice mused, before adding, with a small cackle. "Tell you the truth, I expected that girl to be locked in a rubber room, a long time ago. I sure as hell gave her enough reasons to go over the deep end… Guess I was too easy on her, being a chick, and all."

Like Beetlejuice had ever gone easy on anyone, regardless of gender, age… anything. But Lydia was amused too, and noted, in as by-the-way as possible, "Well, there were those two months she missed in the middle of senior year that no one talks about… The official word is that she was on a 'health retreat.' But it _was _right after you lead her on that trek through the cemetery…"

This time the sound he made was a little less controlled, a truly maniacal laugh. "Betcha a bottle of hundred year old whiskey, the little bitch still ain't figured out how she ended up in that open grave I fixed up for her!"

"Only one of several open graves left that night." Lydia agreed, propping her chin in her palm, as she considered the memory fondly. "Funny how well the dead can walk, when they're given enough reason. Funny how many ended up in that grave with her, too. The people who had to dig her out of _that _dog-pile, were not happy."

"Actually, I got paid pretty damn well, to help them clean up the mess. So I was plenty happy." He stroked his chin with one finger, adding, in a sort of satisfied way, "Last time she pulled any shit with you though, wasn't it?"

At this point he paused, blinking, and seemed to come out of his reverie with a little look of surprise, as if when he looked at her again, he was still expecting to see the kid he'd just been talking about protecting. All he said though, was, "Huh," And consider her again like he was taking her in for the first time, before his eyebrows flew up, and he leaned back in his chair, a confident expression plastering itself across his face. "Well hell Lyds, I always look out for my babes, you know that!"

"Yeah… Common sense, or ethics, or whatever, be damned." But she didn't look unhappy, saying this. "Guess I'd rather have you on my side, than against me, given the choice. But I suppose most would."

"You'd be surprised, babes." He murmured, before pausing, clearly thinking what else to say. Before he could though, the wait-person was back, this time with their glasses of golden wine, while another waiter carried their dinners. It surprised her a little, that it had taken so little time…

There was no ceremony to it, the dishes were set down without a word, no 'enjoy your meal,' or 'please tell me if you need anything.' Certainly without pause for a thank you, as if it just wasn't expected. It left Lydia puzzled, and facing a massive mound of jumbo shrimp, while her 'date' looked down, pleased, at an equal sized pile of oysters, still in the shell.

Lydia hoped that the dinner would now be composed of eating, but no sooner had she dipped her first shrimp, before she'd even put it in her mouth, than she was distracted by a sickening slurping sound, as Beetlejuice attacked his first oyster with exaggerated gusto… Then, with still glistening lips, shot her a nauseating grin.

She closed her eyes for a moment, her stomach turning, but her lips fluttering in little twitches, as she tried not to let him see how much she wanted to laugh. "That is _so_ gross." She informed him matter-of-factly, before pointedly turning back to her own meal, and not looking at him again.

"You know you love it." He purred, a sound that really wasn't right coming from him, before digging into the next shell.

And they didn't talk much after that, but Lydia was enjoying her meal more than she expected, anyway. She did like shrimp, even if she was putting off tasting the wine… At last though, she grew bold, and held the stem of the glass tentatively between her fingers, looking at it rather like a snake that might bite her. Beetlejuice just watched, eyes flashing in anticipation, not saying a word. Closing her eyes, she brought the glass to her lips, and took a bold sip…

It was, sweet, and incredibly sharp, and somehow, she didn't know how, it was somewhat dry too. Mostly, it was _good_. She put the glass back down with a display of having faced her fears, and gave Beetlejuice a defiant look. He didn't say a word, just turning back to his meal, looking rather like he was pissing himself trying not to laugh. Not that _that_ lasted long, before he dissolved in obnoxious little cackles…

"Ass." She informed him bluntly, making him flip her off randomly over the table, before lifting up one of the gray-brown shellfish, a little twitch to his eyebrow.

"Since you're feeling brave, babes…" He taunted, spinning the mollusk on his fingertips, and presenting it to her with a flourish. "Go on. You know you wanna." It was clear as he said it, that he was never going to let her live it down, if she didn't.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "What are we now, nine? Are you going to double-dog dare me, next?" Beetlejuice just continued to smirk. "Fine, whatever…" If this was the most important point she conceded to him over the course of the night, she was doing pretty well, after all… She considered the oyster warily, taking it from his fingers, and inspected the odd, oblong, bumpy brown surface. "Okay, um, how to I do this?"

"Okay, it's like this," He lifted another one by way of demonstration, "You kinda purse your lips, tip the shell, and…" He paused, looking more perverted than usual, "You suck." Before she could object to his little innuendo, he was slurping down his own oyster, in an exaggerated way again, and regarding her with a glint of challenge. "First time's always a little tricky, babes." He added, silkily.

Resisting the urge to throw the oyster at his head, she ignored his choice of words, and followed his instructions… Only to end up with a mouthful of seawater and sand, as well as oyster. Making a face, she regarded the empty shell with a rueful look, wondering what she'd done wrong, before she gracefully spit the unappetizing mouthful into her napkin.

Beetlejuice just looked triumphant, in an oddly sleazy way. "Told ya, babes." He held another shellfish in her direction. "Try again. I swear, when you're doing it right, you'll love it."

_More_ double meaning. Great. She accepted the oyster with a lot less hesitation this time, tipped her head back, and slurped it up, just like he had… And was actually a little surprised when she seemed to have done it right, just ending up with the oyster, and not whatever else was in its shell. It was sweet, and a little chewy, not as much as she'd expected… Pretty damn good, to be honest.

Lydia set down the shell, and considered his plate with an appraising eye. Smirking, he pushed it in her direction, and invitation given, she helped herself to another. It was only after her third, the right way, that she considered him with little knife in hand, popping the shells open for her. "So… Are you killing them?" She asked, suddenly uneasy.

"Yep. They're still wiggling their last gasps when you swallow them down, babes." He informed her matter-of-factly, showing every pointed tooth, like he dared her to protest this.

Feeling suddenly a little green, Lydia turned her attention back to her own meal, leaving the dying little mollusks for her date to enjoy. "You are… so gross." She said at last, a little weakly, while he continued to enjoy his meal with gusto, not grieving the soft bodied little things. But for all her revulsion, she couldn't help but stare at him with a macabre sort of fascination from time to time… Until he lifted one of the shellfish in his hand again, and offered it in her direction with a little chuckle.

"You know, babes," He informed her, with a silky little murmur, "You're a lot more fun when you say yes…"

-----------------

The snow was swirling around them now, stinging her cheeks as they walked down the darkened street. The sun had apparently set while they were eating, so now she was seeing New York at night… It surprised her a little, despite pictures she'd seen, how full of light the darkness was. But it was maybe the sound that was the most surprising… It filled everything, conversation, cars, music… A hundred other things she couldn't even identify!

And she walked through it all with Beetlejuice's arm tucked around her waist, drawing the occasional passing glance of interest, but never more than this. It was cold… But after years of zipping in and out of the neitherworld at whim, she was used to a cold that ran far deeper than this. So she just blinked when the ice crystals gathered on her lashes, turning her gaze to an oddly lit sky, swirling with sparkling flakes. She didn't know why it was still snowing here, but the fine dusting of it over the otherwise harsh grey world was, comforting.

She glanced at the poltergeist by her side, grinning like he was having the time of his afterlife, hat tipped down slightly over his features, every bit the part of a good-time guy having a night on the town with his girl. For the life of her, she didn't know why he was so damn cheerful. Okay, usually he found his own reasons to be, but how could he be so optimistic that by the end of the night, she'd start seeing things his way?

The real question bothering her of course, was why he was even going through so much effort? He'd _had_ a girl, before all this started. Pretty much all over him too, from what she understood, though admittedly that could have been an exaggeration. And Beetlejuice was not, she knew, a real picky guy. Why dump a sure thing, for… Well, what she just didn't see happening?

He was talking a blue streak at the moment, pointing out all the local sights to her, though she couldn't guess when the last time was that he'd been here. Lydia was listening with sort of half an ear, most of what he was telling her about big important things that had apparently occurred on every doorstep had to be bullshit anyway, but for the moment he didn't seem to notice.

There was a method to Beetlejuice's madness, she'd learned long ago… He could talk circles around anyone, about anything, and in the end, pretty much lead the conversation right where he wanted, without the other person really even being aware of the ride they'd just been on. He'd done it to her many times… Although the motive there, had always seemed to be to make her laugh, or set himself up as the straight-man for one of her snide remarks. Either way, they always had _fun_.

And she was having fun now, whether she wanted to admit it or not, laughing through her nose when he described the conversation he'd had with Elvis under a certain stoplight, just to the side of them. He looked triumphant, and began embellishing his tale, accompanied by extravagant hand gestures, and hip thrusts, as he explained how _he_ had been the one who taught Elvis all his moves. And how he could have been so much _bigger_ than the king… Except for the whole, being dead.

If only they were out for one of their regular, trouble-making adventures, she'd say she was having the time of her life. They'd been to three different theme nightclubs by this point, each more ridiculous than the last. Their most recent had left her with tears of laughter streaming down her cheeks as Beetlejuice drew her into the most ridiculous dance she'd ever seen… If she was to believe his efforts back there, the guy had no rhythm at all…

And yet after making a thorough spectacle of themselves, they'd swept out into the street, and proceeded into another dance, this one, amazingly, with every move on its mark. As it turned out, he was an excellent dancer. He was just so full of bullshit that it was hard to tell. And dancing down the street, snowflakes swirling around them, people stopping to stare and laugh, was a lot more fun than bad techno in a multicolor-lit club, anyway.

Yes, if they were just hanging out as friends, she'd be having a blast… So it didn't make sense, the way her stomach was all twisted in knots, despite the good time she was having. Or that it was getting worse. Why did Beetlejuice have to change things? Why couldn't they just stay _friends_? Maybe he'd realize, soon, that this was all the night was leading to, and things could go back to normal… So why couldn't she convince herself?

Though the pain in her stomach had been growing worse for the past three hours or so, she didn't say a word to him, just grinning at his jokes, enjoying his company, and pressing her increasing nausea to the side. When he grabbed her by the arm though, stopping her suddenly, her gut gave an alarming lurch, and her eyes teared for a minute, as she fought to regain her balance.

Damn, she was _that _sick? She really hadn't noticed… And the thought alarmed her. Beetlejuice had been going out of his way to show her a good time all night, and she'd been so determined not to ruin it for him, that the severity of her upset stomach had crept up on her. She grimaced inwardly, wondering if it was food poisoning, or just _really_ bad nerves. With her luck, probably both.

"Babes, check it out!" Beetlejuice was saying, giving a grand gesture towards a badly painted sign over a double glass door. "Karaoke! Come on, you gotta try it, you gotta let me hear you sing… No, I got it, we'll listen to all the chumps bellowing their lungs out, and laugh our asses off at them! Bad singing, shitty dancing, cheap champagne… You're killing me here, Lyds, _say-yes-god-damn-it_!"

Despite herself, Lydia giggled, feeling the nausea pass for the moment. One more stop couldn't hurt… They'd listen to a little off-key singing, maybe get something to get this taste out of her mouth, then she'd get Beetlejuice to take her home. Easy as pie. _Bullshit, Lydia Deetz…_ A little voice warned her quietly. But she didn't _want_ the night to end yet. She was still having _fun_! A little upset stomach was no big deal…

It turned out that the first person currently on stage, actually sang well, so she was spared the possibility of falling over in laughter before they actually reached their seats. She was barely aware of Beetlejuice ordering said bottle of cheap champagne, just considering how thoroughly pleased he looked with the way the night had gone, and unable to resist a smile. Of course, when he saw her smiling at him, he read it all wrong, and gave her a sly little wink… But that just made her laugh again, and shake her head, forgetting for a moment that he might be serious.

She knew she should pay more attention, as he poured the glasses of champagne- she'd said _one_ glass of wine, damn it- but instead she'd finally thought of something to break the silence between them herself, and was curious how he'd respond to her line of thought.

"Hmm. You know," She mused, as if in all seriousness, "I can't believe you haven't made us skip out on one check all night. I mean," She went on, allowing some of her humor to show when he arched a brow at her, "Any minute, I keep expecting you to grab hold of me, and zip off into, whatever, just before the guy shows up with the bill. But not once, all night." She accepted the glass as he handed it to her, adding, "Classy, Beej."

"You know it, babes." He agreed, before tipping his glass up, and chugging the entire thing in like three gulps. Then he sort of slammed it down, hard enough that she was a little surprised it didn't break, and grinned toothily at her. "You're with me, class all the way!"

Lydia hid her face behind her fingers, trying to control what was attempting to escape from her chest. It was all a moot point anyway. He _knew_ she was having fun. Shaking her head, she took a sip of the champagne, always having wanted to know what it tasted like anyway… And for being cheap, it was pretty damn good. The bubbles tickled her nose, she didn't know why… It just wasn't like soda, somehow. Scratching the tip of her nose lightly just seemed to set Beetlejuice in even better spirits though, and he poured himself another glass, propping his chair back on two legs, and looking inordinately self-satisfied. Oddly enough though, he didn't say a word.

The next three performers all made her groan, and want to cover her ears. While she didn't have the heart to tell them what she thought, Beetlejuice of course had no such reservations, and the last of the singers he'd heckled throughout her song, ran off-stage in tears, drawing some laughter, and many dirty looks. The next thing she knew, half her glass was gone, and he was urging her to go up on stage, and show them how it was done. This not even knowing if she could sing worth shit.

But to tell the truth, she wasn't really paying attention to him anymore. She hadn't even gotten upset over his making the girl cry, as much as anything because she simply didn't notice. But Beetlejuice finally _did_ notice that something was wrong, as he paused in his urging to take in the pained look on her face, and the way she was holding her stomach.

His eyes grew calculating as he watched her, suddenly not saying anything more. It didn't take a genius to tell she was sick. What he couldn't tell was how _long_ now, she'd been sick. But if she was no longer having a good time, his date had just gone to hell. And the amazing thing was that he didn't give a damn… He was just worried about her.

When Lydia lurched to her feet suddenly, muttering '_oh god' _under her breath, Beetlejuice was already standing, grabbing her by the arm, and ripping them through space… She didn't know where. What she was aware of was doubling over as he held her, tightly, protectively, and the next thing she knew, her stomach was refusing to be ignored any longer. She wasn't sure she'd ever felt so sick in her life…

It lasted what felt like forever, but finally the spasms slowed, and she became aware of a few things. She was in a bathroom. Beetlejuice hadn't let her fall to her knees, but was holding her gently around the waist, tipping her down far enough that the mess reached the toilet, while his other hand, fingers tangled in her hair, held it back to keep her from getting sick on herself. It was a vulnerable, scared position to be in, and it left her with an overwhelming sense of gentle worry from the poltergeist… Not anything she'd ever expected from him.

But then this moment of clarity was ripped away as her nausea returned, and she proceeded to be painfully sick some more, while he just supported her, lips pressed together grimly, his grasp surprisingly tender, not saying a word. Almost cradling her. When she simply had nothing more in her stomach to surrender, he scooped her up like a child, or the way he had when he'd found her at the lake, and sighed, dropping a surprising kiss on her forehead.

"Lyds, you could've fucking told me." He muttered under his breath, just before drawing her into the darkness again. The darkness, where all she was aware of were his arms around her, the feel of his chest supporting her weight, and a smell that she'd long ago associated as simply him. Sparks of fire, fragments of ice, the caress of shadows… Her head was clearing a bit, and more than anything, her sudden weakness left her exhausted. She just wanted to go home.

So it made no sense why she made a sound of protest as he laid her back on her own bed, her hands reaching to hold onto him. "S'okay, babes." He murmured, pushing her hands away. "You're home now. 'M right here."

Lydia pushed herself up to a sitting position, drawing the covers around herself, and considered the ghost with the most, who looked more tired than she felt. He looked, defeated. As if he'd just really fucked up something important. But he reached out, running his thumb gentle along the center of her forehead, and gave her a weary smile. "Hell babes, not exactly the way I hoped it would turn out, right? Not that I didn't get you in bed…"

Lydia chuckled, just a little. She also reached out, before she really thought about it, and pulled his hat from his head with one hand, tousling his hair weakly with the other. "I wasn't bored." She murmured, not protesting when he pushed her back into bed. Even pulling his hat on her own head and drawing it down over her eyes, to block him from her sight. She knew he was there though. She could always feel when he was there.

And this time, he didn't leave her once she was resting… She knew, because he was still there, when she fell asleep…

----------------


	12. Confrontations' Again

Beetlejuice doesn't belong to me. If you want to split hairs, I don't know exactly who he belongs to… Tim Burton, The Geffen Film Company, whoever wrote the myriad of scripts… (Probably not that last.) It's all legal techno-babble to me, and I don't know much about that stuff. I do know enough not to claim he's mine, or try to make money off him, or I'm screwed. Which sucks. I mean, who wouldn't want to make a living doing what they love? But I guess I should just be grateful I can do it at all… Where would I be, if I couldn't? …Probably doing it anyway, but if anyone asks, I'll deny it. You'll vouch for me, right?

----------------

I'm going to laugh _absolutely_ maniacally now, for two reasons... One, I actually like what I wrote this time, even if I'm not sure it fits perfectly with the flow of the characters so far... And two... I honestly think I just went off the deep end from so much Beetlejuice!

_Mwah-ha-ha-ha-hah!_

---------------

"_Goddamnit Juno_!" Beetlejuice snarled, fixing the caseworker with quite possibly the most feral expression she'd ever seen on the trouble-making poltergeist's face. "She's gonna be awake any fucking minute now, _and I've gotta fucking be there!_" A flick of his hand lifted the chair she'd offered him a moment before, and sent it flying through the frosted glass door, shards scattering everywhere loudly. "This is _not_ a good _time_!"

To say that his somewhat mad behavior was unexpected, even from him, was an understatement, but Juno sat behind her desk with an utterly bland expression, as if she'd simply seen it all before… and in truth, there wasn't much she hadn't seen, in her centuries sitting behind said desk. "I wasn't aware that was part of the bargain you had with the Deetz girl," She replied in an unimpressed tone, "You really need to keep me up to date on these things."

A pause, as she lifted a folder, paying him no further mind, and began flipping through his latest series of paperwork, before finally, shooting another glance in the still pissed-off poltergeist's direction. "Will you sit down, Beetlejuice! You're not going anywhere until this paperwork is done, so you might as well get that through your thick skull now!"

Beetlejuice scowled, turning back to where the chair had been before he'd flung it, to find it already replaced. The glass on her door was even already repaired. It pissed him off, how completely ineffectual any of his powers were, here.

But with a grunt, and a dangerous scowl, he dropped his weight across the heavy chair, almost hard enough to break it, and indeed resigned himself to wading through yet another length of bullshit red tape, before he could get back to Lydia. "So what'd I do this time, you old bag?" He muttered, drawing a toothpick out of his shirt pocket, and tantrum failing, pretending to be indifferent instead. "I was out with a living girl, all night, playing a breather… How'd I manage to screw that up?"

"Putting aside for the moment that the living girl in question was Lydia Deetz," Juno muttered, as if such information really didn't matter to her either way, "It was actually a fairly minor infraction… If indeed it could only be called _minor_, because you were the ghost involved, and your previous actions have been known to be…" She flicked her hand at the wrist dismissively, as if she wasn't even going to attempt to describe these. "Simply put, you and the girl disappeared from full view, in front of an entire room full of breathers, most of whom either noticed your sudden exit, or were subsequently informed of it." A pause as she lifted her eyes to him, adding, "Not the smartest thing you've ever done, Beetle."

Beetlejuice's green eyes flickered dangerously. "That's it?" He growled, all pretenses of boredom gone. "I fucking disappeared in front of a few half-drunk breathers, and you drag me down here to do goddamn paperwork?" His voice rose a little, as he straightened in his chair, snarling, "Lyds was fucking _sick_!"

"And there was no reason she couldn't have been sick right there, Beetlejuice. There's no laws that supersede the ones of death, that say she had to be sick either alone or with dignity." Juno's expression still hadn't altered even a fraction, as Beetlejuice fumed over the woman's words, guts twisting in fury over the idea of just letting Lydia suffer that kind of indignity and humiliation, when it was his goddamn fault she'd been sick in the first place!

But there wasn't a damn thing he could say about it, he'd committed the miserable little infraction, he'd do it again in a second, what was the worst she could do to him? Paperwork? "Give me the fucking papers." He growled, snatching the folder from her hand, and flipping through the sheaves of pale yellow himself. "Goddamnit Juno, there's no reason you can't do this yourself, this is what your fucking eternity is devoted to, why do you have to drag me into it?"

"I told you already Beetle, I'm not doing any more of your paperwork." Juno answered flatly, offering him a pen. "You screw up, you get to take care of it." This said however, she continued regarding the ghost, even after he'd ripped the pen from her fingers, and started scribbling away at the forms.

"Beetle," She prompted suddenly, not even making him glance up from his work, "You're growing very attached to that girl, aren't you?" Even at this, his only reply was a brief flick of his eyes up, and a grunt that could be taken either way. "You have to realize, the only reason your relationship with the Deetz girl has been permitted this long, is because of the geis that you yourself placed in her." Another grunt, this time not so much as a glance. "In fact, there are certain people in high authority, who would like to see that you never see the girl again."

This finally got Beetlejuice's attention, his gaze snapping up like his eyes had been on a set of puppet strings, narrowing in fierce challenge at her, as he turned this over in this mind. Who would care either way about him and Lyds-? _Goddamnit!_ His lips peeled back in a truly terrible expression, every tooth bared in a way that was nothing like a smile, as the poltergeist hissed under his breath, "_Prince Vince_…"

Juno made a small sound of acknowledgement. "He was quite surprised, and displeased, to learn that your binding on her, superseded any sort of binding we might have on you." At this, Beetlejuice's expression grew closer to a smile, but somehow, this just made it all the more disturbing. "He has demanded, with every ounce of his authority, that a loophole be found in the contract you offered the girl… And was even more displeased to learn what that loophole was, when it was offered."

Beetlejuice turned this over in his mind, briefly, before barking with laughter. "She has to fucking hate me, if it's gonna be broken!" He pounded his fist against the armrest of the chair in triumph, offering a sneer to the ancient ghost woman, as he added, "Fat fucking chance of that! There's no way in hell I'm blowing this gig!"

The case worker, again, showed no real reaction… Not at first. Then slowly, her thin pale lips curled into an utterly unsettling smile, as she murmured confidentially, "There is always another loophole, Beetle. I expect you, of all people, to know that."

Beetlejuice's smile faded slowly. From the way she'd just offered that, with the sense of currently having one over on him, not only was it possible that such a loophole existed… But she already knew damn well what it was. His breath hissed out between his teeth slowly, as he struggled to control the surge of panic rising in his chest. Never see his Lyds again? His _babes_? If it could be done, the damn prince wouldn't hesitate for a second, no matter what Lydia herself wanted…

His gaze dark with the seriousness of the situation, he faced Juno now with an entirely new attitude. One that knew damn well she could hang his ghost ass out to dry, if he gave her reason. "What kind of loophole are we talking about here, Juno?" He rasped, the very fact that he'd called her Juno, and not '_you old bat_,' attesting to the seriousness of the situation.

Juno just considered him evenly, that god-awful smile still in place, and leaned over her desk, clearly savoring what she was about to say. "If you're exorcised," She whispered, in a play of keeping the words just between the two of them, "You no longer have power over shit." A stab of alarm struck Beetlejuice, hard, somewhere around the middle of his spine, and left him speechless. She leaned back slowly, finally reaching for her first cigarette, as she added, by way of explanation, "All your energy dissipates," She snapped her fingers matter-of-factly, "Like that. Including what you put in the girl." The funny thing was though, that she no longer seemed to enjoy that fact as much as she had, just a moment before. Indeed, after this, the both of them fell into silence.

Beetlejuice's head was in a sickening, scared spiral… Though he couldn't say with any honesty which scared him worse. Being trapped in the goddamn lost soul's room… Or losing Lydia. And it was about the time he realized this fact, that he finally understood how much of a damn he gave about the living girl. That just not being part of her life anymore, could scare him as much as exorcism.

"You could always cancel the geis yourself." Juno prompted suddenly, as if only now coming to this conclusion, neither features nor tone indicating any longer that she cared either way. "Then the prince's will would be carried out, you'd no longer be a threat… Extensive measures would no longer have to be taken." She met his eyes with her cold blue ones, folding her hands on her desk. "If I were you Beetle, I'd seriously think about it."

All Beetlejuice could manage in reply was a short shake of his head, and a baring of teeth. It was a purely animalistic reaction… Take away what was his? What meant more to him than his own stinking afterlife? _Fuck no_. He just couldn't form the words to say as much, suddenly realizing that before the end of the day, the mighty ghost with the most, might just be another torn fabric of energy, behind a locked door. And Lydia… Oh shit, what would happen to her if-?

"My official stance on the case," Juno interrupted this line of thought suddenly, and with a tone of voice he'd never heard from the old woman before, "Is that I'm still searching for a way, on my end, to void the contract. Officially." Beetlejuice lifted bleary eyes to her, at first not understanding what she was saying. "The girl is good for you, Beetle." Juno went on, softly. "And in a way I don't understand it, you're good for her. The prince may not see it, but that doesn't mean I don't."

"Besides," And here she leaned forward over her desk again, lips twisted in a self depreciating smile. "I like the girl. She reminds me of someone who made my afterlife interesting once. An assistant I used to have." She gave an absent wave of her hand, noting nonchalantly, "You probably wouldn't know him."

Beetlejuice stared in absolute bafflement at the woman, a source of mercy he'd never expected, even as she finally took her first, long drag on her cigarette. He was still staring in fact, when she noticed this a moment later, and gave him an impatient scowl, snapping her fingers at him to hurry. "Well what are you waiting for? Finish that paperwork! The Deetz girl isn't going to wait forever, and neither am I!"

And with this, she turned back to her own work, leaving Beetlejuice with a feeling he hadn't known in a long time, if ever… And was sure he didn't like. Humility…

----------------

It was a shitty way to wake up… Her first, overwhelming impression, being that Beetlejuice was just no longer there. Which made sense, when she thought about it… No telling how long she'd been asleep after all, why would he just wait around for her to wake up? Like watching her sleep was the most interesting thing _that _guy could think of… But it bothered her. In a little, tight place in her chest, close to where that cold was that he'd given her, years before. It bothered her there, and she needed nothing so much as time to think on why…

"I see you're finally awake." Barbara murmured, making Lydia open her eyes. How she'd known before this was anyone's guess, but Lydia considered the woman with nothing so much as a frustrated, '_I-don't-have-time-for-this-right-now,_' look, before she forced a small smile. "So, do I even want to ask?" Her godmother added, looking slightly pained.

This one took a moment longer to figure out… Until Lydia, on reflex, went to move Beetlejuice's hat out of her eyes a little more, and realized suddenly that she was still wearing her outfit from the night before. And yes, _his _hat as well. Her mind effectively spun in circles as she tried to find anything approaching a reasonable explanation, and for the first time in her Beetlejuice enriched life, came up without a decent lie. "Um…" She replied intelligently, drawing the hat the rest of the way off her head. "Can you let me sleep a couple more hours, and ask that again?"

Barbara made a little, tolerant face, accompanied by a sigh that said she knew the girl was doing her best to bullshit her. And failing. "It's past noon, Lydia." A pause, and then, with more than a passing interest in her tone, "What time did you get back home last night, exactly?"

_Well hell, when all else fails, try honesty, and see if I can bullshit my way out of this with that._ "After dawn, I think. Or just before. I'm not sure." She sat up a little, dropping her hand with relief to her stomach, which was _god-thank-you_, no longer hurting. "Not long enough ago." She added, stifling a yawn.

Again, the look of pressed patience, and a tight little smile. "Should I bother explaining the meaning of a curfew, when I don't think we ever actually gave you one?" Barbara pulled Beetlejuice's hat from the girl's grasp, making Lydia's heart lurch briefly, and her smile twitch a little. "More importantly, should I explain that you have four parents who worry about you when you don't check in, to let us know you're still alive?"

"Well of course I'm alive," Lydia muttered, staring at the bit of shaped red cloth in the ghost woman's hands, a little impatiently, "If I wasn't, I'd just end up back here with you anyway, right?" A long, weighted pause followed her words, making her eventually glance up, and notice Barbara's distraught expression. _Oh, goddamn it…_ "I suppose that didn't come out as reassuringly as I meant it to." She muttered, only slightly apologetic. "What I mean is…"

"What you mean," Barbara interrupted softly, "Is that you give no regard for people who care about you, who know that there's a lot that can happen between life and death, and who don't want anything bad to happen to you." A small pause before, more insistently, "What you mean, is that you were selfish enough not to care what was going through our minds, as long as you didn't have to answer for your actions."

Damn. The woman had a way of making her feel lower than a dead man's shoe. "Yeah." She acknowledged softly, finally choosing now to reclaim the bit of red, adding, "If you include in there that I was really just hoping not to get caught."

Barbara considered her a moment longer, her soft brown eyes the worst weight Lydia had ever had to bear, before she settled herself back, sighing again. "Lydia Deetz… Are we going to go through this whole sneaking out at night thing again? Because I really hoped to god that you were finally over that…"

The fact of the matter of course, being that Lydia had never gotten over that particular phase, so much as simply learned to be better at concealing it. But the fact that Barbara believed so earnestly that she had, rather than reassuring her that she'd gotten away with it, just made that buried heel dig a little deeper. Her next words of course, tasted a lot like her sickness the night before, surging up to her tongue again. "It's not like I do it all the time…" She lied quietly, unable to pull off such simple bald-faced fabrications as well as she'd once been. "I just wanted to spend a night out."

"Which would have been why Adam and I would have argued in your favor, to do just this!" The ghost woman pressed, finally looking angry. "Because we know that you're a responsible young woman, and not just a little girl anymore! Not until dawn of course…" She stopped here, and shook her head, looking nothing so much as disappointed. "I really expected better from you, Lydia."

Okay, the big question here… Apologize profusely, and promise never to do it again, furthering her lie, or try to squeeze out of it? Again? "Urg…" She fell back on her bed, heavily, and chose a third option, pretending she was simply no longer there. Pulling the hat back down over her eyes helped. "Okay, I'm an ass, I get it. What do I have to clean this time?"

Silence answered her question, and then, rather than the punishment she was asking for, so unapologetically, came the question she should have been expecting, but wasn't. "So who were you with?" Barbara asked quietly, her features currently unreadable, as Lydia was eclipsed in darkness.

Of course, that meant that Barbara couldn't read her features either… "No one you know." Lydia answered softly, pretty sure that there was no way in hell she could get away with that answer. "Dinner, a lot of dancing…"

"And the fact that we don't know him, somehow left you with the impression that it was okay to be out with this boy all night?" Barbara's voice was rising now, finally in anger, but the sort of controlled anger that only she had, the kind that got under Lydia's skin with its tingling sparks of ghost energy, and left her with the bizarre need to scratch. "Just like you thought it was okay not to tell us you'd be gone all night in the first place?"

Lydia tried, god help her, to think of a proper answer to this. Finally, all she could offer, again, was, "I really hoped you just wouldn't notice I was gone."

It was of course, exactly the wrong thing to say. As proven by Barbara's response of, "So you mean to tell me you've done this before?" Lydia closed her eyes, wondering briefly what the consequences of getting up, running to the mirror, and leaping into the neitherworld to hide for a while, in front of her godmother, might be. "Lydia Deetz…"

"I haven't." It didn't sound like a lie. It didn't sound like anything, so much as the idea that she simply didn't want to talk about it anymore.

"Are you saying that just so you won't get in more trouble?" Barbara pressed, surprisingly perceptive creature that she was proving to be today. "I mean, is there anything I can believe now, if you tell me? Or do you regularly make a habit of lying to my face?"

God. All she wanted to do, was figure out what the hell had happened last night, between her starting out being determined to prove to Beetlejuice that she didn't think of him '_that way_,' and the end of the night, when she'd wanted nothing so much as for him to hold her until she fell asleep! That was all she wanted. Was it so much to ask? Was anyone going to let her fucking _think_?

Okay. Okay, she was going to deal with this one step at a time. Removing the hat from her eyes, she sat up, and regarded Barbara with the most honest expression she had, which only worked because what she intended to say just then, happened to be the truth. "He's a guy I've known for a long time," She said softly, meeting the ghost woman's eyes now, "But never as anything more than a friend. Now that I've broken up with Vincent, I find out he might have a thing for me. I don't know. He asked me to give him one night, to prove there might be something there. One night. And I gave it to him. He's pretty much been my best friend for years. At least since Bertha and Pru moved on with their lives."

A small pause, as she let this sink in. "I haven't told anyone about him, because it's part of my life, that I want to _keep_ my life. Not something we talk about over the breakfast table. He's been _my _little secret. Just as a friend, nothing more. That's always been underlined in red ink. Only now I don't know what the fuck to think… And to be perfectly honest, the four of you were the last things I was thinking about last night. All right?" There. The truth. More or less.

For a long, long moment, Barbara just looked at her, warring emotions in her gaze, as she clearly reflected on days when she'd been Lydia's age, something she'd always been able to do much easier than her mother. At last she just dropped her eyes, put her fingers over her mouth, and took a long, slow, unnecessary breath. Weighing what she'd just been told. Weighing Lydia's attempt at honesty, against what she obviously wasn't saying. "And what did you decide?" She asked at last, a question she'd be a great deal more urgent over, if she knew that Beetlejuice was the 'guy' in question.

Lydia felt like a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders… Or more accurately, been violently knocked off them by a wrecking ball. She hung her head, gazing with a small pursing of her lips at the red and white stripes that encircled her body. Stripes that, god help her, could only make her think of him. And of course, Barbara was asking the very thing she herself had been hoping to sort out when she woke up this morning… "I don't know." She said softly.

They sat like that for an extended moment, several moments in fact, before Barbara stood, and made a show of brushing off a dress that was already perfectly clean. "I'm going to go heat you up some breakfast." She announced quietly, as if something had somehow been resolved between them, even though to Lydia's knowledge, nothing had. "There's still pancakes left. We even have some strawberry syrup this time."

Then, with a glance in the girl's direction, and just a trace of her usual, gentle smile, she added, "Where did you get that dress anyway? It's beautiful on you."

Lydia laughed under her breath, meeting Barbara's gaze with a trace of a challenge. "Internet." She lied smoothly, in what she was pretty sure both of them knew was anything but true. Considering that her family didn't own a computer, never having seen a need for it that couldn't be accomplished at work or school, there wasn't much it could be, but a lie. But she'd laid her story now… This was an off-limit subject, and for now, Barb seemed content to accept that.

At least this was what she gathered from the ghost woman's soft, "Imagine that," right before she left her alone again.

Only once she was gone, did Lydia release the breath that, she swore, she'd been holding since the conversation began. Disaster averted then. Sort of. Even if it only brought her one step closer to the day when she'd have to tell her parents everything… Which she was suddenly certain in her heart, _would_ one day come. No matter how much she didn't want it to.

She stood slowly, a bit ungracefully, hat held loosely between thumb and forefinger, and cast another long glance around the room. No, he still wasn't there. No telling where he'd gone. Or when he'd be back. She felt a brief, unhappy twist in her middle, and fixed a rueful grin on her lips, to cover it. Okay, so she cared where he was. That he wasn't there when she'd woken up. Was she just shitting herself, that she only thought of him as a friend?

Laying the loose bit of clothing on her dresser, she paused in surprise as, for the first time, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. At first glance, she didn't even know it was her… Starting a little, as if she might have accidentally looked out the window instead, and some beautiful woman she'd never seen was staring back in at her. On the second floor.

Once she realized that it was her, she could only stare, dumbfounded that her plain, scrawny, unimpressive self, could really look that good. It was all the dress, of course… To say that it flattered her was a vast understatement. It gave her curves that she wasn't even sure herself she had, elongated her limbs so that she didn't look so goddamn short, swept around her waist like a gentle pair of pressing hands, like she had some kind of fucking hourglass figure…

She touched the mirror, lightly, with her fingertips, as if checking to make certain it wasn't really some neitherworld beauty looking back at her, rather than her own features. But those dark eyes, whose color she'd earned from her mother, and intensity she'd earned from her father… Those were hers, and nobody else's.

For a moment she couldn't speak. Wasn't even really certain she was breathing. Her hair was falling from its neatly tucked position now, after a morning of heavy rest, but the polished, shining strands, shone like black ink, and she could tell even now that the night before, it must have been gorgeous, when every hair was in place. She must have been, beautiful.

It just, didn't make sense, that this could be her. She was leaning close enough now for her breath to fog the glass, and she swore, her eyes were stinging, like she was about to cry. It had to be Beetlejuice's magic. It couldn't be her. But Beetlejuice, wasn't there, was he? "Is this me?" She whispered, finally drawing back, and putting her gloved hand to her own cheek, only to see the girl… No, the _woman_ in the mirror, do the same. A mad little laugh fell from her lips, as despite her best intentions, at least one tear escaped her dark, bewildered eyes.

And it was about this time that Beetlejuice appeared before her, not giving her time to rescue his hat, before it was crushed under his weight. Beetlejuice though, didn't even notice… His eyes were all for her, and at the sight of her crying, again, it looked like something had broken inside him.

But he folded his hands, smiled like nothing was bothering him, and before she could explain why she looked the way she did, he noted matter-of-factly, "Guess I screwed up pretty good, huh babes?"

Lydia blinked, looking at him in puzzlement, and belatedly, wiped the errant tear from her cheek. "I don't know what you're talking about-" She began, only to have him lift his hand, with a pained, tight-lipped expression, and shake his head in disgust.

"Don't deny it, Lyds. I asked for one shot to give you a good time, and it ends up with you hanging over a toilet halfway across the country. _I screwed up_." He fixed her with a slightly mad look, more from a sense of frustrated desperation, for once, than any trace of anger or humor. "Just go ahead," He flicked his fingers towards his chest, "Tell me off… Tell me you gave me my chance, and now you never want to hear another fucking word about it again. Get it over with, so I can go beat my head against a few brick walls for a while."

She honestly didn't know what to say, her mind couldn't go so quickly from feeling one thing so intensely, to trying to understand the admittedly crazy poltergeist's line of thought. What finally became apparent, after a length of trying to figure out his reasoning, was that he was letting her off the hook. He wouldn't pursue her anymore, they'd go back to being friends… It surprised her a little, the way her heart seized, almost with anger, at the thought that he'd just give up so easily.

But he was also, she realized slowly, through her own stubbornness, really, genuinely upset at what he saw as his lost chance. She took a deep breath, trying to think of what to say, and for once, despite her clingy, form-fitting dress, his eyes didn't once flick to her chest. Rather he just stared at her, like a… A wounded puppy. Dead, yes, insane, sure, dangerous, most likely… But it didn't change the fact that it was the most genuine expression she'd ever seen on the poltergeist's face.

So when _she_ smiled, it was genuine, and a little rueful. "Hell, Beej… I had fun. You do know how to show a girl a good time. I mean, it got a little messier than I would have liked…"

"Don't bullshit me, babes." He denied flatly, his features suddenly deadpan, if the corners of his lips did droop a little. "A night that ends with having to hold your date over the toilet, isn't one that gonna impress any broad. You included."

Actually, it was how gentle he'd been with her then, how he'd just given up on getting his way, to tend to her needs, that _had_ impressed her… But she wasn't ready to admit that. Not yet. She was beginning to suspect, as he had, that there was more than friendship between them. Even that he wasn't pulling one over on her, the way he did most girls. But she still needed to think it through… She just wasn't ready to say it.

But she'd had _fun _with him. Honest to god _fun_. If she was perfectly honest, as hell of a lot more fun than she'd ever had on a date with Prince Vince, who in the end, was too worried about making some minor misstep, to actually risk having a good time together. And if she was honest further, she'd know that she'd _always _had fun with Beetlejuice… She'd thought that was just because they were good friends. But that didn't explain the way her heart was thudding away so anxiously in her chest now…

And yet some last stubborn trace of suspicion, just wouldn't let her accept that she was somehow different than the other girls he'd left her side to chase, so many times over the years. She did _not_ want to be an 'also-ran.' Not with _him_.

So when she smiled this time, it was with more than a trace of venom, even as she was eating herself alive over why she was doing this to him. Even as she hated herself for the words she _knew _weren't true_. _"I didn't know impressing your date meant so much to you." She noted, with a trace of humor that she damn well knew was out of place. "I always figured it was just whether or not you got lucky in the end."

Beetlejuice's eyes, which had been dark with self-pity, hardened just a fraction as they flicked back up to meet hers. "What, you think you're anything like those other broads I've chased, Lyds?" He asked softly, with just a trace of anger. "You think I'm gonna treat you anything like I treat them?"

And here they were, the words that, god help her, she knew she had no right to say… But it was too late. The words were already out of her own hateful mouth, and nothing she could do would take them back. "What's the difference?" She asked quietly, evenly, revealing none of how her own insides were tearing her to pieces as she asked this, or as she waited for an answer. "Why am _I _some special case?"

Anger rose up in the poltergeist, visibly, until she swore the air hummed with it, swore that she could see every hair on his body stand up just a little straighter, with the unleashed power currently coursing through him. "Because I give a damn about you!" He roared, in a voice that should have carried through the house in an instant, alerting every one of her parents to the fact that the ghost with the most was _back_. "You think I ever gave a damn either way about those other broads? They were just fucking _entertainment_! You-!"

And here Beetlejuice seemed to run out of words, just glaring at her for what felt like a heart-stopping eternity, before slowly, forcing his hackles to lower, and finally just looking at her like this time, she'd really scored deep. Like she just couldn't possibly understand. "You're Lyds." He finished at last, very softly. "You're my babes."

A tight, mad little laugh fell from her lips, she couldn't help it… She really didn't mean for it to sound the way it must have. But from Beetlejuice's expression, she couldn't have done anything worse to drive the knife just a little bit deeper. She actually felt a little mad herself, hysterical maybe, grabbing for her desk chair in order to have something to sit down on, quickly. "Beej, you're the best…" She whispered, shaking her head, and making an absolutely dumbfounded expression creep across the poltergeist's face.

"Say again, babes?" He murmured, eyeing her like _she_ might be the crazy one there. Which she supposed, at the moment, might be entirely possible. "I'm the best what?"

Lydia finally managed to stave off her attack of the giggles, long enough to lift her head, eyes gleaming with pleasure, and offer, in as nonchalant a voice as possible. "You're right Beej. You totally screwed up. Now we're going to have to do it all over again… You know, see how it turns out when we do it right…"

It was possible that Beetlejuice's jaw dropped, just a little, but then his eyes lit up like wildfire, and he was swinging down from his desk, reclaiming the crushed hat from under his ass, and swinging it back in place on his head, regardless of how ridiculous it looked. A low cackle escaped his lips, as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation… "Babes, you're not gonna regret it, I'm gonna show you the time of your fucking life… Venice, Italy, what do you think? No, no Paris… Goddamn it, that's where the blond bitch is… Now, what's better than Paris…?"

He fell into short, fanatical pacing at this point, drumming his fingers against his chin, his eyes racing with thought. Rather than coming up with an answer as to their next destination though, he paused suddenly, in mid-step, and his eyes grew wide. "_Goddamnit_!" He demanded, suddenly looking desperate again. "Did I miss it again? Fuck, Lyds, tell me I didn't miss your birthday this time…!"

Lydia, in the midst of pulling the myriad of pins from her hair, as she watched his little display with fascination, was briefly caught off guard. "Um, no." She answered slowly, wondering where he was going with this. "It's next week, why?"

"Next week!" He looked vaguely like she'd hit him, then started pacing in circles, cursing up a storm, the various swears interspaced with, "-can't wait a fucking week to give her the goddamn-!" And several arguments with himself about _why_ exactly a week was such a big deal, when he'd been around for centuries…

And then abruptly he turned on her, so close that they were almost nose to nose, and Lydia gave a little jump of surprise. Beetlejuice though, seemed not to notice their nearness, and gave her a face-splitting grin, grabbing her by the hand, and dragging her to her feet. "Shit-hell-anyway… Birthdays are more for breathers to celebrate, this'll be a little thing just between us… _Now-hold-on-just-a-minute-I-got-it-here-somewhere_…"

Lydia was baffled by her best friend's sudden lapse into absolute senselessness, as he turned in circles while digging through his pockets, half of it for show she was sure, still cussing up a blue streak, now about why he'd never bothered to organize the stuff in them.

"Ah!" His eyebrows flew up as his fingers apparently closed on whatever he was looking for, and he drew forth a small blue paper box, much the worse for wear, that had probably been floating amongst his various possessions for decades. "Birthday present." He grinned at her proudly, as he held out the mangled little thing. "Go on, you don't gotta wait for your birthday… You know _I_ won't tell…"

Accepting the box gingerly, not sure what the hell was about to jump out at her, she braced herself, for his sake, and cracked the lid open…

And froze in utter astonishment, at the sight of the small white metal pendant inside, in the unmistakable shape of a beetle. It was in fact, something she'd seen once before, when she was much younger… When Beetlejuice had told her the story of how he ended up on his own in the world. It was all he had left of the family that had given up on him…

"Beetlejuice…" She whispered, lifting the cold otherworldly metal to cup lightly in the palm of her hand. It glinted in the low light… Like there might be more than just the pretty silver metal to it. Her eyes rose to his, confused. "How can I accept this…? It's the most valuable thing you own!"

"Not anymore, babes." He denied, matter-of-factly, and with more than a trace of a smug grin. "That'd be you, now."

Heat swept her body in an instant, and for one bizarre moment, she thought they were floating in that odd non-place again, because she swore she couldn't feel her body, and there was no way in hell that her feet were touching the floor… And through it all, a part of her she wasn't entirely certain was actually part of her, just smiled sweetly, and murmured, "You do _not_ own me, Beetlejuice."

But the poltergeist just winked at her, rocking on his heels a little, looking goddamn full of himself. "Not _yet_, you mean." He corrected her, in as asinine a fashion as even he could summon… Which of course made her burst out laughing.

Beetlejuice? _Beetlejuice_. Dirty, troublemaking, lecherous, not-a-dignified-bone-in-his-body _Beetlejuice_… Playing by no one's rules but his own, constantly getting her into situations they barely got out of, caring for no one but him… Except that last wasn't true anymore, was it? And god help her, _Beetlejuice_, making her stomach flutter, and her heart sing, as she watched him grinning his ass off, as she wondered why the hell she'd never figured it out before…

"You like?" He asked smoothly, suddenly snaking an arm around her waist, and pulling her _very_ close… Licking his lips, his eyes boring into hers…

"Lydia! Breakfast!" Every muscle in the poltergeist's body tensed, almost violently, and then he threw his head towards the door with a decidedly demented expression, with a glare that could peel paint.

She watched in fascination as his lips parted, and from that oddly sensual mouth of his… Her_ own_ voice emerged. "Coming, Barbara!" He sing-songed, in a way that almost made her pass out from silent laughter, as he turned back to her with a grimace. "Goddamn Babs, always interrupting when things get good… Well!" He took a step back, lifting his hands in surrender. "I can wait. No one will say to _me_, that I am no gentleman."

This last was said in such a ludicrously serious fashion, that Lydia actually choked on her own laughter… But then before she could say a word, before she could proclaim all her unsaid feeling, before she could admit that _yes, _she felt something for him too…

Beetlejuice winked at her, made a pistol shape with his hand, and noted with forced nonchalance, "Catch you later, babes."

And he was gone.

----------------


	13. Epilogue An Understanding

Beetlejuice doesn't belong to me. If you want to split hairs, I don't know exactly who he belongs to… Tim Burton, The Geffen Film Company, whoever wrote the myriad of scripts… (Probably not that last.) It's all legal techno-babble to me, and I don't know much about that stuff. I do know enough not to claim he's mine, or try to make money off him, or I'm screwed. Which sucks. I mean, who wouldn't want to make a living doing what they love? But I guess I should just be grateful I can do it at all… Where would I be, if I couldn't? …Probably doing it anyway, but if anyone asks, I'll deny it. You'll vouch for me, right?

----------------

Heh, this is it, the last chapter in this fic... Am I evil, or what? I do want to continue it with a new fic, presented a little less than a year later. Man, but I'm getting exhausted! That being said... Okay, I loved my last chapter, so of course I'm conflicted about this one. That's how it works. Plus... Man, last chapters are harder than first chapters! I mean, that's where I'm going to leave you hanging... It better be good, if I want you to read the next one! And then that being said... I really _do_ want to write the next one... I just might need a little break, first.

Forgive me?

----------------

In her excitement, Lydia took the stairs two at a time, expertly finding each step with her nimble feet… Until she miscalculated how many were left, reached for a stair that wasn't there, and stumbled. Adam, not even looking up from his latest project, expanding the library, chastised her gently, saying, "Now Lydia, stop that. If you go and break your neck, who's going to pick up those paints I need today?" When he finally did look up at her though, he was smiling… Obviously Barbara hadn't shared her knowledge about Lydia's little secret expedition the night before.

Come to think of it, it really was falling into an 'every parent for themselves' kind of thing, where it came to raising the trouble-making goth girl. God help her if they ever put their heads together… They'd figure out what she was up to in a second! Lydia just grinned at him wildly, the utterly uninhibited grin of a child waking up on Christmas morning, and gave him a brief hug as she ran past, ducking into the kitchen. Adam watched after her vanished form with a bemused smile… There really was no keeping track of that girl's moods.

Barbara made a sound of surprise as Lydia attacked her from behind, giving her a good, solid squeeze, before snatching the pile of pancakes from the counter, syrup pitcher grasped firmly in her other hand. Her godmother considered her with a momentarily baffled glance, before suddenly she laughed too, quickly understanding. "That," She noted smugly, pointing to her goddaughter's sweetly curved mouth, "Is the smile of a young woman in love." Lydia just beamed back happily. "So…" She took a seat, and slid her chair closer to Lydia's, conspiratorially, "When do I get to meet him?"

Lydia almost choked on her first bite of pancake, taking a little longer than necessary to clear her airways, before fixing Barbara with the most innocent look she could summon. "I don't know what you're talking about." She lied to the ghost woman's face, without batting an eye. How much easier it was to lie, when the both of them_knew_ she was lying…

"Uh-huh." Her lips curved prettily, in a knowing way, as she stood, dropping a light kiss to her goddaughter's head. "Well, that's fine for now, honey… But sooner or later, we _are_ going to meet him. Promise me, sweetie."

She couldn't help her grimace, but she showed her teeth through it, so that it could almost be taken as something like a pleasant expression. "I promise you'll meet him," She agreed, resigned to her secret coming out sooner or later, "I'm just going to put it off as long as possible, that's all." There, honesty. A pause, then more pleadingly, "You _won't_ tell anyone… Not even Adam?"

Barbara lifted her hand like a girl scout, which she had probably been at some point, and agreed with feigned seriousness, "I solemnly swear." Then, she spoiled this by grinning, in that trusting way she had, a woman who wouldn't think bad of anyone… Almost anyone… And turned to get her something to drink. "Orange juice, or milk?"

"Mm, orange juice!" Half of Lydia's meal was already shoved down her throat, with little pause for chewing, but once again Barbara seemed to understand completely, just fixing her with a knowing little look of amusement. Lydia swallowed, and stuck out her tongue.

"You watch it, young lady." Barbara warned her, setting the glass down in front of her goddaughter. "You're not too old for me to lift you in the air, and keep you there."

"Thanks, Barb." Like her pancakes, the orange juice disappeared almost before she could taste it, and then she shoved herself to her feet, ready to get out and get going… Then paused, taking in the ghost woman's absent stare. She wondered suddenly just _why _she was getting off so easily… True, better not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but… Was something bothering her friend? "Barb?"

Her godmother blinked, briefly off in a world of her own, then looked back at Lydia, as if surprised to still find her there. "What is it, honey?"

Lydia considered her at length, weighing her instinct to just leave sleeping dogs lie, with the sudden sense that something was wrong. Lydia didn't say a word though, the stare-off just extending between the two of them for an extended moment, before Barbara finally sighed, and took her seat again. "Look, I don't want you worrying about this." She said softly. "I don't know what's going on between your mother and Edmond, but they'll work it out, I'm sure of it.

There it was again. _Your mother and Edmond_. As if he was being, slid to the side, as… Not one of them anymore. Lydia's heart struggled with conflicting emotions… The need to find Beetlejuice, and share her recent revelations… and the need to know what was happening in her family. "Is it bad?" She asked at last, very softly.

The anger that flickered across Barbara's face, the sudden frustrated set to her mouth, she didn't expect either one. "They're both acting like children!" She muttered, more harshly than anything Lydia had ever heard come out of that sweet-spoken mouth before. "Edmond's acting like he was scolded in front of the class, brooding and quiet, not willing to talk anything out… And Olivia's being more stubborn than usual, pretending nothing's wrong at all! Except for the fact that she suddenly treats her husband like a total stranger…"

Despite the fact that the words had all rushed out so fast, with such frustration, now she broke off suddenly, looking horrified at her own words. "Lydia…" She murmured softly, apologetically, "You know I have nothing but the utmost respect for your parents." She paused briefly, searching for an explanation. "It's just that nothing's ever gone wrong in their marriage before, and now neither one of them seems to have a clue how to deal with it."

Okay, that made sense… Sort of… But it did leave her with one question. "What, exactly, went wrong?" God, she hoped it wasn't some kind of sex thing… She was _not_ that open minded.

Barbara's mouth firmed again, as if this were really what she didn't want to discuss. "I think Edmond has a, problem, with death, that he's never admitted before. He expected your mother to give ground, like she usually does…" Her fingers flicked in a way that didn't even try to explain that. "But instead she seems to have taken it as a personal slight against her. There's just, hurt feelings all around." A pause, then, with some sense of irritation, "I swear, sometimes I think _you're _the adult here, Lydia. Most of the time you act more mature than either one of them!"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Barbara's words made her smile. God only knew how many times she'd thought just the same thing herself… "Right," She agreed, hoping to inject some levity into the situation. "Because I'm the poster girl for calm and rational thinking."

The ghost woman paused at Lydia's words, and her eyes met the goth girl's for about the length of a breath… And then they both started laughing. "You're just going to have to deal with being the grown-up in the family," Lydia teased her, when the giggling trailed away, "God knows you've had enough practice!" Then before her godmother's good mood could wear off, she wrapped Barbara in a deep embrace, before pushing her back at arm's length, lips rueful. "You know how stubborn my parents can be. Just give it time, and try not to worry yourself into your second death over it."

"Hmm." Barb gave her arm a little squeeze, looking calmer. "Thanks, sweetie. I needed to hear that… I feel better now." And Lydia, who could normally lie to a nun without giving herself away, suddenly realized that she didn't have a damn clue when the people she was closest to, were lying right back to her…

But it wasn't something she wanted to dwell on, not now, so for the moment, she let herself believe the lie. She had her own love life to think of… And there was nothing she could do about that of her parents'. So she was willing to leave her worries for another time. "I'm going out!" She said to Barbara, feigning her own qualms resolved, and left before Barb could press any more questions about her 'secret guy.' She knew damn well that was the last thing any of them needed to worry about at the moment…

Adam glanced up as she entered, and looked mildly alarmed as she streaked past him, using his ghostly powers to briefly lift her feet from the floor… The most he really ever did with them. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where's the fire? I told you I need you to pick me up some new paints!" Lydia cast him an impatient grimace, eager to be off, but there really was no arguing with someone who had _superpowers_… Well, except maybe Beetlejuice, but that was just because it was fun.

He pressed two empty bottles into her hand, a sort of brick red, and the god-awful lemon yellow she recognized from the new paintjob downtown. "Two of each, if you please." He pressed a twenty into her hand, she'd never bothered to ask where he got the money. "And hurry back! I can't do a thing with the entire eastern end of downtown until you get me these paints!"

"I'd tell you to get a hobby," Lydia informed him dryly, as her feet touched the ground again, "But that's really the problem, isn't it?" She eyed the bottle disdainfully. "Shit, can't you at least use creative license with the colors? That yellow is going to make my eyes bleed, if I have to stare at it!"

"You never used to use language like that…" Adam muttered, completely ignoring her question, and walking past the girl without another glance. "Barb? Have you seen my flat-edge brushes?"

Lydia decided to take her chance, and high-tail it out of there… _Before_ anyone got it in their head to ask her anything else. After all, she'd just had the epiphany of her young life, and _goddamnit_ if she wasn't going to act on it before she had a chance to get cold feet…

After all, Beetlejuice was waiting… She hoped.

----------------

He'd been wandering around downtown for the better part of an hour, aimlessly, more or less killing time, but now his steps had purpose. Lyds was somewhere close by, and he was already eager to resume the conversation that had been interrupted before. He _knew_ his charms couldn't have been completely lost on any woman, Lydia included. The fact that she was willing to give him a second chance, after that nasty little incident in New York, just indicated to him that she was already softening towards the idea… A clear victory in his book.

So yes, maybe he couldn't get that wide, cat that ate the canary grin off his face, and he considered people pleasantly that just gave him odd looks in return. Even waved to a few, feeling positively friendly, and ignoring when they didn't wave back. He paused at one point to check his reflection in a store window- forgetting briefly that he didn't have one in this world- and stared a bit puzzledly at where it should be, before he remembered. This brought about a stage sigh from the poltergeist, as he shook his head ruefully at an image he didn't have, before starting back down the street. Being dead did have its little annoyances…

He slowed as he came to the intersection, reflecting briefly on which way from there he felt Lydia's pull. Damn, he never could have guessed, when he'd put that little bit of his own energy in her, just how useful it would become over the years… Not that it hadn't offered a drawback or two along the way. Like that incident with the neitherworld mob. But that was years ago, and everything had pretty much gone his way since then, so he wasn't going to pick it apart now.

Taking a right, he took in the grouping of boring shops to left and right, pausing with a slight grin at the sight of the candy shop Lydia loved to buy lemon drops from. He never used to think about it twice, but now it gave him all kinds of nasty thoughts… If she'd thought he was a bad influence on her _before_! He adjusted his lapels, licking his palm, and slicked his hair back, totally cheesing it. But she wasn't in there at the moment, so there went _that_ group of sleazy innuendos. For now.

Stepping back a little, he considered the unimpressive store next to the candy shop, which seemed like some low budget, local excuse for a jewelry shop. The sort of place guys bought cheap rings for their sweethearts… Nothing like the piece of work he'd given Lyds. He dwelled, smugly on that, for a full minute, before it suddenly occurred to him to wonder why she was in there. Hell, what did she need in a place like that…?

Suddenly gripped by that wary feeling he had from time to time, when he was just _sure_ something was about to jump up and bite him in the ass, he pushed the door open a little, and peered in, utterly ignoring the small 'ping' that announced his presence.

Lydia was at the counter, holding his beetle between two fingers, and speaking in low voices to the man behind the counter. For one moment, Beetlejuice was baffled… To all intents and purposes, it looked like the girl was in the middle of hocking his gift! Then she laughed softly, accepted a slender gleam of metal from the store clerk, and turned around, smiling, like she'd known he was there the whole time. "Beej!" She greeted him, completely without surprise. "Look what I did!"

Still a little cautious, he came up to her slowly, an uncertain purse to his lips. In the next moment though, it vanished, as she opened her hand to reveal the now spotless piece of jewelry, gleaming as perfectly as it had when it was new. He could even see the tiny chips of sapphire embedded into the beetle's shell now… "Cleans up nice, doesn't it?" She murmured appreciatively, while he just stared with a sudden, small lurch to his gut, old discarded memories coming back in a rush.

"Real nice, babes." He agreed softly, surprising himself when he didn't have to force the smile that followed this. "It'll look real good on you."

"I know it, right?" She was blushing a little as she said this, but then she paused suddenly, her hand disappearing up the front of her shirt, making his eyebrows fly up curiously. A moment later, this was followed by a small 'snap,' and he pulled the ring free he'd given her… Previously hanging on another shoelace, he was amused to see, and then held up the chain the store clerk had given her, letting it twist in the light.

"See, I figure," She said softly, not explaining the odd words any further than this, "Some things are meant to change for the better." While he briefly debated whether these words had some hidden significance, before discarding the idea for favor of seeing what she was up to, she threaded both ring and beetle on the slender chain, and held it out to him, swinging in the light, expectantly. "Put it on me?" She pleaded gently.

This had the effect of making his eyebrows fly up again, this time in puzzlement at her suddenly shy attitude, when the girl he knew was anything but. "Okay…" He took the ends of the chain from her, and twisted his fingers, indicating that she should turn around. She did, obediently, lifting the waves of black from her throat… And making his breath catch briefly in his. "Damn you got a sexy neck, babes." He muttered under his breath, pulling the chain around said neck, and snapping it in place… Letting his fingers linger just a little.

"You're the only one who thinks so." She informed him, with a tolerant little sigh. Before he could object to this, she turned back to him, and met his gaze with those deep, beautiful eyes of hers. He swore there was something different to them though, than he'd seen there before… and it left him staring, unable to put his finger on just what it was. "You're staring." She chided him gently, an affectionate smile pursing her lips. For once though, he wouldn't have been exaggerating, to claim she liked it…

Beetlejuice blinked, took a step back, and looked at the girl again. Something was _different_ about her, not just the way she looked at him, but the way she held herself too. A confidence, a sensuality, that she'd suppressed before. This was a girl who suddenly knew she was beautiful… And enjoyed the fact that he knew it too. It hit him a fraction of a second later… Lyds was coming _on_ to him!

A small sound of surprise escaped the back of his throat, but it was followed instantly by a triumphant look, as he stepped forward again, snagging her by the arm, and pulling her into his embrace. "Babes, I ever tell you that you look hot when you're flirting?" He purred, suddenly confident that she was doing just this, and even more so when she didn't abruptly pull away, or protest. Admittedly, he'd been wrong in his hunches before… But there she was, still giving him that come hither look, still smiling with her eyes all lit up with gentle feelings… Damn. When had this happened, and how had he missed it?

"Hmm," His thumb and forefinger worked along the edge of her jaw, his mouth just inches from claiming hers. "So let me get this straight… I _didn't_ screw up?" A low, sensual chuckle escaped him. "'Cause I gotta tell you, babes… That was not how I expected the night to end."

"I know damn well how you expected the night to end." She smirked, pushing him back playfully, and not objecting when he just growled, and held her harder. "But you're going to be in a holding pattern for a long time, before _that_ particular plane lands, buddy." Beetlejuice blinked, frowning. She couldn't possibly mean that, the way she…? She gave him a little shove, harder this time, but still didn't try to draw away. "You're _going _to prove to me you're serious," She went on, a little more seriously herself, "That means no ass for you, until _I'm_ ready."

This set him back a little, and he considered her with a level, bargaining look. Damn, he wanted to jump her bones right now, right here…! But it _would _be the girl's first time, and there was never any telling how a chick was going to take that sort of thing. He was still confident in his ability to get his way… Hell, he'd gotten her this far, and he'd figured it to be pretty much a lost cause by this point!

Beetlejuice narrowed his eyes at her, finally loosening his grip, to take a step back. A flare of worry lit in her gaze, which almost made him chuckle, but for now he was going to make her sweat. "Uh-huh…" He mused slowly, just as if he were having second thoughts… Hell, turnaround was fair play, after all… "You do know who you're talking to here babes, right?" He made a pointed gesture towards himself. "Ghost with the most?"

Just as her lips begin to firm in something like frustration, or even defeat, he grinned again, and latched her around the shoulders once more, pulling her close enough to purr in her ear, "I'll talk you out of those panties in three days, tops."

A short, relieved laugh, escaped Lydia, more than a little exasperated as well. "Damn you!" She snickered, giving him a solid shove. "You had me thinking-!" But she never got to say what it was she'd been thinking, because at that moment he pulled her in for a bone-weakening kiss, teasing her with his fingertips as his tongue quickly claimed her mouth. He knew he was sending little tingles of ghost energy through her body, something not many would sense, but Lyds couldn't miss, and knew it even more as she went gradually weak against him, until he was holding her up. Damn if he was going to miss a trick now…

But then she caught him, unexpectedly, around the neck, and knocked his hat from his head as her fingers burrowed demandingly into the wiry, greasy strands. Biting his lip, hard enough to make him loosen his grip, before turning the warm softness of her tongue to it, and nibbling with a sort of tender expertise that he did _not_ expect her to have.

When she broke the kiss, she tugged his hair just a little harder, not quite letting it go as she tucked her head into the curve of his shoulder, giggling fiendishly. She knew damn well what she'd just done to him, he reflected in surprise, belatedly realizing that once again, his hand was on her ass, and this time she wasn't making him move it. Every fiber in his body sang and burned… "Damn it!" He cursed under his breath. "You little liar! Where'd you learn to kiss like that?"

"I've had years to let my imagination run wild…" She murmured dryly, growing just a little warmer against his skin. "Sexual frustration can lead to some pretty creative thoughts…" A pause as she pulled him back a little, narrowing her eyes at him in challenge. "Just as good a reason to me as any, to make you wait."

Beetlejuice groaned, releasing her long enough to reclaim his hat from the floor, and dust it off on his already dirty pant leg. "I gotta tell you, babes… You're wasting perfectly good skills, already _brimming_ with imagination. I got techniques that'll curl your _bones_!" He sighed, replacing it on his head, and giving her a bemused look. "So just so we're clear… I can still use all my tricks to seduce you, right? That's still fair game? Just so we're getting the rules of this little game straight…"

"You can seduce _me_, all you like." She agreed, putting an odd little emphasis on the word. "You start chasing other skirts again though, I bury you deeper than the last guys did. Capisce?" The poltergeist just smirked, waggling his eyebrows at her, truthfully already digging in his mental bag of tricks… Other skirts? Why the fuck would he waste this shot with a girl already more fun than any of them?

"Beej…" She groaned, interrupting his line of thought. "You don't know how serious I am… If you break my heart, I will _never_ forgive you."

This surprised him momentarily, and he looked at the goth girl, a little studyingly. He didn't think he'd ever seen her with that particular look of vulnerability to her eyes… So what was this then? The best he'd figured was for a little mutual flirting, a good time, making their already existing friendship something even more fun.

But that was _not_, he realized abruptly, almost soberingly, what he saw in Lydia's eyes. The girl had let her guard down, and now that she had… It suddenly became apparent that she had a thing for him. A _real _thing. With all the confusing romantic feelings that came with it. Well damn, he wasn't expecting that! What broad in their right mind would fall for a guy like him? Especially _Lyds_, who knew just what that meant? He was just in it for the fun… Right?

Being in it for the fun though, didn't explain all the trouble he'd gone through to impress the girl, or the fact that he'd been willing to give up, if it was what she wanted. Didn't explain that he loved being around her all the time, and had for years, regardless of the other ghouls in his life. Maybe he was just fooling his damn self…

But Lyds, in love with him? The idea felt kind of like having a railroad spike driven through his forehead as it occurred to him again, albeit without the pain that should accompany it, and his legs suddenly questioned their ability to hold him up now too. Lyds… It confused the hell out of him, but the one thing he suddenly knew above all else, was that he would _never_ do anything to hurt her. That was just, his babes. Rules he had for other people didn't apply.

He smiled, slowly, wondering if maybe his useless soul wasn't as useless as he'd thought. Wondering if maybe, he had a thing for her too? Ah, who knew? Who cared? She was _his_ now. "Babes," He drawled, in a matter-of-fact sort of way, holding out his hands for emphasis, "Would I do a low down dirty thing like that?" After a pause though, which gave her time to think up a proper retort, he added, with a quirk of his eyebrow, "To _you_?"

This effectively stole her words, and after a moment, she smiled, hitting him with another railroad spike of revelation. The girl fucking _trusted _him. Had he not taught her a damn thing through the years?

At this point, an impatient voice cleared behind them, and he blinked, looking past Lydia, who looked suddenly horrified, to the store clerk, who'd apparently been watching the whole thing. Beetlejuice smirked. "What's it to you, buddy? Jealous?" And he grabbed Lydia lightly by the ass, adding "Go get your own!"

Lydia made a little sound of fury, or amusement, he couldn't tell which at the moment, but the fact that she stomped on his foot far more lightly than usual, had to be in his favor. The guy was saying something about making themselves scarce before he called the police… What the hell was his problem?

Then again, who cared? Lyds on his arm, his _best _friend, his _only _friend, his new _ghoul… _This was the start of a beautiful new afterlife. They walked out together, and he immediately struck up some inane little banter with her, his mouth instinctively finding things to say that didn't even register properly with his otherwise occupied brain. Him and Olivia's brat… Who knew?

Maybe when he saw the broad again, he'd thank her. Getting knifed in the back by the two faced little bitch was the second best thing that ever happened to him. .."Lyds?" He interjected into his current line of thought, apparently randomly, "You're the best. You know that, right?"

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End file.
